


Cheer-Streaked: A Westbridge Over-Drama

by JessicaX



Series: Cheerless Saga [1]
Category: Sabrina the Teenage Witch (TV)
Genre: Community: femmeslash, F/F, Frenemies, Gen, High School, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Lesbian Character, Prom, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaX/pseuds/JessicaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[CHEERLESS SAGA, Book 1/6] Recent happenings make Libby reevaluate her life... and Sabrina Spellman. What is it about that freak, and why can't she ignore her anymore? POV-Libby: T for mild language & themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome To The Freak Show

**Author's Note:**

> Sabrina the Teenage Witch and all other characters are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever.  
> This work of friction - I mean, FICTION (awful, I realise) - is ©2007 myself.

~*~ Prologue  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

SLAP!

Shoot, now I've done it - I hit her. I can't believe I just HIT her! Okay, so maybe I hate her stupid guts, and her stupid face, and everything about her freakly personage - or maybe I don't, but... I just crossed over the threshold from passive-agressive banter to physical violence, and... how do I feel? Sorry. The remorse surprises me because I hate her, and at the same time I'm surprised to be surprised. Do I really think I'm above feeling awful for striking somebody, just because it's that loser? More importantly, I know I don't really think of her like that anymore, so why do I still feel like I have to pretend? Why am I such a terrible person and how did I get this way?

...y'know, I'm getting WAY ahead of myself here. Let's take a step back.

My name is Libby Chessler. Hi! I'm a Junior at Westbridge High, and I'm Queen of the school. Conceited much, you say? I don't think so; I've been voted Homecoming Queen three times, so it is kind of a literal thing. I also have the best hair, the most expensive clothes, the hottest guys salivating over me, and everybody - students and teachers alike, even the Vice Principal - are like putty in my hands. Make no mistake, I rule around here - in fact, to lower my self-image by any significant amount, I'd have to be delusional. What? Just being honest.

But while all that's important - because I'm important - it's not really what this is about. It's about that constant thorn in my side, that royal pain that just won't seem to disappear no matter how much she should.

Sabrina Spellman; A.K.A., Freak Of The Century.

One day, almost two years ago, that bizarre little bimbo just waltzed into MY school, smiling at everybody like she was made of daisies and daffodils, and ruined my life. Well, maybe not totally, but she took a good size chunk of the fun out of it. She didn't fall in line like the rest of the peons here; she stood up to me, questioning my logic and motives as if anyone else's mattered. Who the hell does she think she is?! That boundless optimism, good nature, blonde hair and dimples... how annoying.

And, as if her mere putrid presence wasn't annoying enough, she seemed to find new and exciting ways to embarrass me like, every day. How did I end up serving lunch duty out of nowhere? How did I end up wearing two different colour stockings when I KNOW I put on a matching pair that morning? I couldn't even explain some of the weird pranks she pulled, but even though she was very rarely openly hostile toward me, I still knew she was behind it all, I'm sure of it... the sugary sweetness was all a facade. She had it in for me, almost as much as I had it in for her.

The freak attracted other freaks, too; that nonconformist freak with the frizz problem who thankfully disappeared after Sophomore year, and The Amazing Nobody who currently follows her around like a little lost puppy. That one actually had the nerve to try out for OUR cheerleading squad - as if! But I don't care if she hangs out with THEM...

How did she get her claws into Harvey Kinkle? Oh sure, he might only be second string on our beloved football team, and he might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I wanted Harvey. He's so down-to-earth, so calm and collected... and cute as a button, of course. That smile! Oh, but no, of course Miss Goody Two-Shoes had to steal him away from me, because nothing's ever easy for Libby. I have to maintain being this gorgeous AND compete against that backwards dweeb for what should be mine by default? Where is the justice, I ask you?!

Again, I digress; I've long ago written off Harvey as a lost cause. I mean, if he actually sees something in Safreakna, he must be damaged goods, right? Even though they've kinda been seeing other people lately, he still seems to be immune to my charms... um, not that I'm trying to use them on that sawdust-head again. That ship has sailed. I wish it'd come back to port, though...

Wait, wait, wait. I keep doing that. It's not about Harvey; well, maybe it started there, but it's so much more personal now. It's about Sabrina, it's always been about Sabrina. She infuriates me like nobody else can, but though I can give you an itemised list longer than "The Waging Of War" of reasons she should be banned from the human race, I still can't tell you why she gets under my skin that way. There's just something strange about her, I've always sensed it - I just can't figure out what it is or why it bothers me so much. Why am I, Libby Chessler, almighty ruler of the Westbridge halls, so easily aggravated by that mouth-breathing, yupwardly-mobile, bleached-blonde, self-righteous, pandering, holier-than-thou FREAK!?

...

...okay, we're back. I was overheating and that's not healthy; needed to take a break, did some yoga breathing. I'm better now. What was I saying? Oh, right - actually, I got off-topic again without realising it - oops! Yes, this is about Sabrina, but more specifically it's about this fight: about why, after all the barbs, jibes, insults and other fun, I finally just up and smacked her one... and why, even though its been a LOOONG time coming, I wish I hadn't.

 

~*~ Chapter 1: Welcome To The Freak Show  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

If I were to really think back, I guess all of this started just before Christmas, when we were trying to decide the best way (mine) to spend the Alumni money; I thought a new throne for the Homecoming Queen was a worthy cause, but the little toe-head had to come up with an idea of her own. What on Earth is a "poetry bash", anyway? Since Vice Principal Kraft and Mrs. Quick couldn't agree on my idea, we had a stupid little campaign, and of course, with a little bribery - I mean, persuasion, everyone chose wisely (me). Although we've always been unpleasant to each other, she said something to me that day that stuck in my mind, right as Mr. Kraft was counting up my votes and I was just about to shift into full-blown gloat mode:

"Why don’t you surprise us all by CHANGING and doing something good and kind for once?!"

At the time, I blew it off as more of her immaturity, as her being a sore loser; I knew she thought I was shallow and self-centered, but what's wrong with looking out for Numero Uno? But that stung a little more than I expected it to; she really thought I didn't have a decent bone in my body. So what did I do? I went over to that freak's hovel to actually say "no hard feelings"; I mean, not that I wouldn't go back to bragging about it in the halls the next day, but maybe just this once I could play nice and shake hands, show her I could at least be civil to my nemesis for fifteen seconds. But not only wasn't she there, but as I'm standing there like an idiot, a stupid bug flies up my nose! See what I get when I try to be diplomatic? Those Spellman weirdos can't even afford fly paper, and I'm the one that suffers!

Later, it got even worse. I was at the pep rally having a, um, conversation with Harvey when I got this horrible pounding headache; it must have been that icky bug, even though Harvey said his aftershave was too strong (I thought it smelled sexy- I mean, nice). After the headache, I had a weird spasm and suddenly I was across the room, and just as they called my name to sit in my brand new throne, I up and went blind, then attacked Mr. Kraft! Even though I don't remember the rest of the night very well, I ended up giving back that throne; I had to explain my bizarre behaviour somehow convenient, and rather than let anyone know I actually went to Safreakna's house on purpose, I blamed the ugly chair. In reality, I guess the fly was carrying some kind of African disease...

Wow, am I bad at staying on track! So yeah, that's what started it: I tried to be the bigger person, and all I got was more misery courtesy of that blonde zit on Westbridge's nose. It made me hate her more than ever before.

The next thing that set me off happened a couple weeks after we got back to school from the holiday break. I was walking through the halls, being admired by my public, when I spotted Harvey on the floor. I was growing bored of being adored (Hah, I rhymed! Damn, I'm just that good!), so I wandered over to find out what was going on. Of course, I spied THEM hanging around him; Sabrina and the Nobody. You know, that second-string cheerleader who always seems like she's giving Eeyore a run for his money... Valerie Birkhead, that's her name. Right, whatever. Sabrina was helping Harvey to his feet, and her little flunky was just walking up.

Just as I got there, I heard Valerie say, "Sabrina, I’ve gotta ask you something."

She pulled her friend away for a private conference, but I was feeling particularly grumpy about having lost a contest a few days earlier (don't ask). "If it’s about your hair," I said, "yes, it DOES look like a woodland creature's home."

"Oh, yeah!" She figeted with it. "Well, I... didn’t really have time to fix it this morning."

Before I could rip her a new one, Sabrina opened her excessively-large mouth. "Y’know Libby, speaking of hair, how’s your chronic lice problem?"

Passing students stopped and stared. Amazing; just loud enough for everybody in the entire hallway to hear without making any teachers curious. How does she DO that so easily? But she wasn't done.

"I mean, you should be charging those little fellas rent."

ARGH, she PISSES ME OFF!!! What's worse is that she's the only one who can piss me off SO BAD that I can't think of a comeback; no one else but Safreakna. And she'd done it again; I stormed off with them snickering behind me, mad at her and at myself for having nothing witty to throw back at her, ready to rip someone's limbs off and throw THEM back at her instead.

I'm so preoccupied that I almost run straight into Jill.

"Whoa, where's the fire, Libby?"

"In your fried hair if you don't give me space."

She blinked. "Hey, sorry."

"Oh, it's not your fault." I sighed and leaned against the wall; I knew I shouldn't take stuff like that out on my friends, but sometimes it's so convenient, you know? "It's you-know-who and her little pinhead sidekick."

"Ahh." Jill peered in on my face. "What happened?"

"Nothing important. I'm just tired of her existing, already. Can't someone call the freak exterminator?"

Jill laughed, and was about to say something when the bell rang. "Crap, I've got Mr. Rothwell next!" she hissed before fleeing. Yeah, Rothwell was a prick... the only teacher I had to break in before I won him over...

The rest of the day passed without incident, but I stewed about it all night. I tried to enjoy The Slicery, and the mall, and the movie (which I don't remember at all now)... but I couldn't shake that vague anger the freak left me with until I went to bed.

But it came back the next day when I saw them again.

"I’d like to thank the two of you for always travelling together," I said, full of false cheer. "It helps me insult you that much more efficiently."

"Libby," Sabrina shot back, "you’d better run along. Aren’t you late for your..."

To my surprise, Birkhead finished her thought. "Future Bitter Divorcees of America meeting?"

Okay, I admit to blinking. "My worst nightmare. Freaks in Sensurround." But at least I had a response this time.

Do you see it? Right there? It was escalating, and she was getting better at it than I was. It's not bad enough she had to step all over my fun in the first place, but she had to be WINNING! And that little freakazoid must have spread some kind of rumour about me, because a couple days later everybody was laughing at me and pointing at my face; I never did find out why. But it's all just par for the course, I guess. We always fire insults back and forth like that, and it doesn't really feel like the day's started without a good session of Sabrina-bashing, so even though I was so unbelievably pissed I generally took it in stride.

That's when it got ugly... almost as ugly as her.

_END Chapter One_


	2. Musical Chesslers

I figure maybe I haven't made my case airtight yet, so here's something more recent.

The week after the rumour incident was Westbridge's Democracy Days Celebration, where we celebrate... democracy. Hey, it was kind of obvious to begin with. Anyway, that twit Mrs. Quick decided that I should be forced to cooperate with that overbearing bubblehead on the school's parade float. I was insulted - I mean, didn't she think I could make the perfect float all by myself? But no, that unholy terror just has to get an iron in everybody else's fire, and therefore we were stuck working together.

"The school guidelines state that the float is required to have flowers," I said as I gestured gracefully to the mostly-undecorated float. "The rest of the design is up to me."

"Don’t you mean us?" Sabrina squawked.

"Well, I’ll be using 'me' as shorthand for 'us'." See? I was trying to be nice to her, considering all of her ideas always smell like last century's cheese... and how badly I was trying to ignore her God-awful hair, even though it was causing me physical pain. "I’ve already got the floral design in my head."

"Oh, well I’m glad your butt is working." And up came the plastic smile. "Oh, I’ll be using 'butt' as shorthand for your head."

I wonder if she noticed my eyes flashing... but, being that we had a job to do, I smiled sweetly. "Fine. Why don't you run along and play in the sandbox while the other students and I get some work done?"

"Okay, okay, obviously we both want to do things our own way, so..." She stepped toward the float, thought another minute (I suppose the hamster ran a few more laps on its wheel), then said, "Alright, how about this for a compromise? I'll work on this side, and you and the pom pom heads can work on the other."

"Are you sure you're allowed to use scissors and glue all by yourself?" I said, patting her on the head. I know, ewww, I touched her... but it was worth it for the look on her face.

"Just shut up and pass me a roll of crepe," she whined.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

I spent the rest of the afternoon supervising Jill and Cee Cee... and tearing off the freak's awful decorations. I swear to God, she has no design sense whatsoever. She kept getting more and more whiny about it, until finally...

"Libby! Leave my side alone!"

"Sorry! I will not allow the town to be subjected to this." I started to walk around the float again, but then I had another thought. Maybe I should just offer to do it for her; I mean, it was obvious she was completely lost and would never get it done right, right? Right.

Well, except- okay, you have to promise not to laugh, but... I slipped and fell on my tushie. I'm not sure what I slipped on - the floor under me was pretty clear - but I didn't want to stick around to hear that freak laughing at my misfortune, so I thought better of my offer and started critiquing some other student. But then, not too long after that, an odd thing happened...

She started following me. Maybe she finally realised I was the best role model she could hope for, who knows? Either way, I finally noticed she was behind me in the halls; I was trying to chat up this hottie, and he was definitely interested... until Sabrina decided to show up and ruin everything by weirding him out.

"Satisfied?" I hissed as he retreated. "You just scared off a cute guy with your freak pheromones."

My good mood vaporised, I went to my locker... but she was still there. How, after two and a half years, did she not get the message that I utterly despise her? Then, just as I was getting that creepy Stockholm vibe, it hit me - she was probably spying on me, trying to dig up some dirt for revenge!

"Don’t you DARE look in my locker!"

"I wasn’t, my er... new locker's here." She pointed. I shook my head, not really believing her, and grabbed my pom poms and left. Guess who wouldn't leave me alone.

"Where are you going?"

"To cheerleading practice." I held up my pom poms and gave her a cheer of her very own. "Ready? Get! Lost!"

She didn't even frown for a second. "Hey, you know, that would make a really good story for the school paper; a day in the life of a cheerleader."

I blinked. "But you despise cheerleaders... and cheerleaders despise you." Was she really spying on me?

"You're afraid I’ll write a puff piece, aren’t you? Well look, don’t worry..."

I sighed in disgust and headed off to the locker room, my new puppy in tow. If I thought all that was mondo bizarro, I don't know WHAT I thought when she tried to stand there and watch me change.

"What are you gawking at, Freakface?!" I said, holding my chest. Then I noticed she had a pen and paper in hand.

"You mean you weren't listening?" She frowned, but it looked fake. "I asked you what drives you to be head of the cheer squad."

"Um, the drive to be better than losers like you?"

"Good, good..." She was eating it up. Maybe she had a close deadline and was just really desperate for a story. "And how does being head cheerleader help you with that?"

"Well, let's see..." I pulled my shirt on. "I have a higher social standing, the boys see my captivating self on the sidelines at every single game, and Willard - I mean, Vice Principal Kraft to you peasants - thinks I'm the best thing since bread, sliced or otherwise. I'd say that gives me a leg up, wouldn't you?"

I would've bet my near-perfect life she'd puke all over my shoes after that... if she wasn't scribbling all of it down like I was giving her directions to the Fountain Of Non-Geekiness. I mean, I really laid it on thick, and kept being as irritating as I knew how, but she eagerly asked me question after question until I finally had to tell her to shut up so I could start cheer practice. Then, she hit me with the whammy.

"Oooh, can I join?"

"No!" It was a gut reaction; I didn't have time to think up anything more clever. "Eww!" I added for good measure.

"I just want to get the full cheerleader experience for my column!" she whined excitedly, even though a twitch was developing in one of her eyes. What was she doing? I mean, she's always this happy-go-lucky, but not next to me. Did she really need a story so badly that she'd completely sell out her twisted principles?

Then it sunk in - I'd get to see her try to cheer.

"Okay, Freaky Friday," I said (no, maybe that wasn't my best one... shut up!) with a small smile, "there's some spare tees and shorts in this locker. If you really want the whole enchilada, get changed and meet me out there."

"NO!" she blurted as I stood up, then coughed and said, "I mean, wait here in case I need you to help me find the right size. I promise, I can change quickly!"

I growled and sat back down with my head in my hands as she opened the locker. "You know, sometimes I really don't get you, Freakbreath. If I didn't know better, I'd say there is no article, and you're just doing all this to annoy-"

"Done!"

I blinked and looked up - sure enough, not only was she all changed, but her school clothes were folded neatly in a pile on the bench.

"How did you do that?"

"Let's go!"

I looked between the white-and-green-clad Sabrina and her hideous maroon shirt on the bench. "But-"

"C'mon," she said, pulling at my arm, "time's a-wastin'!"

See, I TOLD you she's weird. If she's that fast, shouldn't she go out for track?

Anyway, she stuck with it all during practice - I mean, she looked like a complete nimrod, and she kept crying "Please let me die!" at random intervals, but she actually kept up with us. A little less klutziness and she might have made the team... if someone ELSE were head cheerleader. I'd rather lick the tile grout in the boys' bathroom than have HER be part of MY pyramid. But something happened when we took a break that REALLY made me suspicious...

"Do you wanna go to The Slicery and grab a bite?" Harvey asked her. He'd walked in just at the end of our last cheer, and even though Sabrina was jumping up and down like a baboon, waving crepe-paper scraps and screaming gibberish, he still somehow found her more desirable than moi. What is WRONG with him?

"I’d love to," she said, then glanced over at me. "But I promised Libby I’d stick alarmingly close to her." She followed me across the room while he sighed and left. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Why have you decided to become my shadow all of a sudden?" I mean, come on - she passed on Harvey to work on a story with her sworn enemy? I certainly wouldn't do the same in her shoes, even if my entire future depended on it. "The truth!"

She hesitated. "Well, I figured since we’re going to be working together, y’know, maybe we could find a common ground."

"Any ground I found with you would indeed be... common." I just saw that permanent smile start to slip as I turned to put my pom poms away, feeling a tingle of satisfaction at that exchange, but she still wasn't done.

"Haha! Y’know, um, wait!" She jogged to get back in front of me again, cheesy grin back in place. "I’m just trying to get to know you better!"

I sighed; enough was enough. "Well, I’m popular, confident, non-freakish... everything you're not." Seeing her smile slide completely off her face filled me with wicked glee (oh, and please don't spread it around that I use phrases like "wicked glee"). Seeing how vulnerable she was, I wrinkled my nose and went in for the kill. "And if you insist on traipsing after me, could you at least wear a higher-quality perfume?"

That did it. As I walked over to my purse, I heard her leave the gym, muttering under her breath. As much fun as it was putting her through what I know must be torture for her, I really couldn't stand the little troll hanging all over me for another second.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Well, I'd have been thrilled about all that, and probably have the best mood ever for the rest of the day, but then, just for a split second, I felt a little guilty; I usually wasn't quite so harsh on her over such a long period of time, and I guess anybody taking that bad of a beating warrants some sympathy. I mean, that's what PETA's all about, right?

Of course, I also couldn't enjoy my good mood because I passed out. Or at least I think I did, because I can't remember anything from then until I woke up... on that nutjob's living room floor, with her and her aunts hovering over me.

"What is going on?" I said, scrambling to my feet. I noticed I was still in my gym clothes - and eww, they were still all sweaty! "What am I doing here?!"

"Oh, you just came by to see if I needed a ride." She shrugged. "I don’t!"

"I would not!" Maybe I went over to her house to apologise... or maybe to tell her to stop being such a pest. Either way, I guess I hit my head or something. "I’m getting out of here."

Just as I got to the front door, I heard her say, "Uhh, wait! Libby!" She jogged up to me, feigning concern. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," I lied. "Once again, weirdness reigns whenever Safreakna’s around." I was in her house twice in the same month, and that was too much for me; I escaped as fast as possible.

I told you, there is not one good thing about Sabrina Spellman, and nothing good can come from humouring her or being nice to her. She's a manipulative, bratty little dimwit who has no real talent or ability, and will most definitely end up working some menial job at... I don't know, a coffee shop for the rest of her life. I've written her off as a complete waste of space, and you should do the same.

...oh, fine. You want your puke-worthy Kodak moment? Here it is.

The next day, she persisted in being overly nice for no apparent reason other than that she is whatever she is. We were almost done with the float...

"Y'know, Libby, I have to admit - your side of the float is looking pretty good."

I smirk. "I’m glad you're willing to state the obvious."

"Oh well, I..." She looked like she wanted to bite back, then changed her mind. "I’m going to accept that as a compliment."

I can't help but laugh, and not just at her yellow monstrosity of a sweater. "Then you could use a dictionary."

Finally, she gives up and walks back to her side of the float, muttering again (someone should tell her how stupid she looks when she talks to herself... I volunteer). Finally, that was that... or was it?

"Libby, um, I could use some help with my crepe-paper."

"I have a box of matches," I say as I walk away.

"But it’s just that I wanted to get done this weekend so I could, uh... visit my Grandma."

Right. Well, I couldn't help but feel the tiniest shred of empathy for her here. I mean, hey, who doesn't have a Grandma? I know I do, and... okay, okay, confessional time.

My grandma's the only member of my family I can stand. My new dad is nice enough but mostly absent, and my mother, while she taught me everything I know, usually treats me more like some kind of apprentice than her attractive daughter. My step-brother Russell is nothing but a ball of irritation. All my extended family are freaks, losers, or meaner than my mother... except Gran. She's the sweetest old woman on the planet; I can't even trash her outdated wardrobe because it's just part of who she is (and let's face it, she has a built-in excuse for it, anyway). Just being in her house, even if she's out or asleep, is enough to make me feel five years old again - like I don't have a care in the world. Man, we have all kinds of fun when I'm there: watching old movies, listening to her stories about being in the U.S.O., making things out of macaroni...

Uh, you didn't just hear me say that last part, okay? Back to the fuzzy moment. I mean, the other fuzzy moment... yeah.

"Oh." Damn, she had me; I knew where she was coming from. If this was what stood in the way between me and Gran, I might (a BIG "might") ask the Freaknik for help. But that didn't mean she had to know that. "Well... I would hate for part of the float to look like you did it." I hesitantly walked back to where she was futzing with one of the crepe-flowers. "Okay, I’ll help.

"Thanks," she said, beaming as if it were Christmas all over again. As we started in on it, she continued, "Y’know Libby, sometimes you're a real puzzle."

"No talking."

_END Chapter Two_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original FF.net Notes:] So, again we embark on another fiction! For those of you who don't know me, my name (as far as you know) is Jessica X, and this is my on-again-off-again thing: Harlequin novels for those as strange and twisted as I. I write when the muse is with me, and unfortunately when it leaves, I stop. Fortunately, this time around I've already finished this entire fiction before uploading the first chapter, so the rest of it WILL be posted, I assure you.
> 
> I feel I must warn you that I am my only Beta, as I've never been able to find a reliable one (yes, this IS an invitation to offer your services - but only if you can out-Beta my Beta-ing!). I do pride myself on my grammar, though the occasional facepalm-worthy mistake will slip through. This is me apologising in advance.
> 
> About Cheer-Streaked, then: this one came to me... for no special reason other than I've been watching a lot of the show lately, and obviously the idea squirmed around in my head until I couldn't keep it there anymore :) Also, you may notice I read those Snicket books fairly recently; I think its influenced my writing style just a smidge. Please be kind when reviewing; it's been a while since I dusted off my pen, and this might be complete rubbish. If you don't like it, that's fine, but keep in mind that I created it mostly as a gift to myself, and also those of you who loved STTW as much as I did.
> 
> One more thing: I've never had anyone take me up on this before and see no reason for it to happen now, but... I do have a pseudo-soundtrack list for this fiction. It's basically just a "My favourite songs from 1999" playlist, but it works! However, our beloved fic site prohibits posting such things and I can't say I blame them, so if you want it, my email addy is in my profile and I'd be happy to send you the list (not the songs themselves, as that would take eons and much bandwidth). Like I said, no one's ever cared before, so I won't be hurt if they don't now.
> 
> All that said - we're off!
> 
> WARNING: Again, a LOT of dialogue (and plot) from this chapter is directly from the show, but rest of the story builds on it; I promise, starting with Chapter 3 it all comes from my brain (for better or worse), which is why I'm posting Chapter 3 at the same time. Also, this is kind of a long chapter. If you already know this episode... skim?


	3. Science Freaktion

You know what? Shut up. I can be nice when it suits me. She just rarely deserves to be treated nicely; she's a whiny little priss, and needs me there to toughen her up - to show her how real humans behave. I can only hope that through my efforts she may one day be ready for non-freak society... but I'm not holding my breath.

So back to the story that is my life. The float thing was probably the first time she and I had any real conversation of substance (such that it was), and I had hoped it would be the last time. But then, about a month and a half later, it was taken out of our hands again.

We were in Mrs. Quick's English class, and even though it wasn't her subject she was droning on and on about the science fair, which is like Homecoming Court competition for geeks. I guess she was really into it, and thought we should be, too. Anyway, for some reason unfathomable to me, our little weirdo had chosen to wear her hair like that woman in the stupid geek movie... you know, where it looks like she glued two Honey Buns to either side her head? Yeah, that one. It was too good to pass up, and she was sitting right in front of me, but... looking back, my life probably would've been a lot easier if I'd just left well enough alone.

"Why do you have two satellite dishes coming out of your thick skull?" I whispered.

"Shh!" she hissed. She was actually copying down what Quick was saying as if it mattered.

"What's that? You don't pick up the Normal Channel with those?"

"Shut up, Libby! I'm trying to listen."

Mrs. Quick shot us a look, so I flashed her a syrupy smirk and sat back. But after a few minutes, I got bored again. "Are you going to enter your head as your project? Those could get you at least honourable mention." She tried to ignore me, which simply will not do; NOBODY ignores Libby Chessler. "Or are you keeping your lunch in there? Bagels, maybe?"

"Geez, Libby, don't you have something better to do?"

"Not at the moment, and I can't seem to take my eyes off your... maybe they're wheels? Oh, so THAT'S how you get home!"

"You-"

"Excuse me," Mrs. Quick said, standing over us, trying not to look annoyed. "It might be a little inconvenient, but I'm trying to impart knowledge. Some students are concerned about the science fair."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Quick; it won't happen again." She's such a suck-up... but I couldn't look like the bad one.

"Yes, ma'am... I was just explaining to her that you use the pointy end of the pencil to write with."

"Oh... okay," Quick said with a sweet smile. How did she ever earn a teaching degree? Luckily, a student on the other side of the room had his hand up, so she didn't have any more time to think about my comment.

"That was low," Sabrina hissed when she was out of earshot.

"You should know about low things," I shot back. "You're down there often, aren't you?"

"Damn it, Libby, don't you ever shut up?"

Wow, I got her to swear! I've never heard her swear before, she's so high and mighty. This was fun! "I'm afraid the bleach has finally fried the rest of your brain. Honestly, how could you possibly think doing that to your poor, damaged hair was a good idea?"

"I dunno, thought I'd do something different for a change. Now leave me a-"

"Oh, it's different, alright. God, sometimes I think you're a 'freakish needs' case."

Now she was so ticked off I could see her shaking. "One more word..."

"One more word and what?"

"That's IT!" Mrs. Quick barked (like a chihuahua, mind you), making us both jump. She was standing over us again and looking angrier than I thought that hippie-in-drab-clothing could. "I can't believe the school's two star pupils aren't interested in the science fair!"

"Mrs. Quick," Sabrina began hastily, "I can explain-"

"Well, you're going to GET interested, because you're going to do a project together!"

"WHAT?!" we both shouted. I added an "Ew!" for good measure, naturally.

"Either that, or... or a month of detentions!"

"A MONTH?!" Sabrina shouted.

"But I've never had detention!" I cried.

"And if you don't want to have it, you'll finish a project TOGETHER and present it TOGETHER at the science fair... TOGETHER!"

Yeah, the last one wasn't necessary; we got the point. But that didn't mean we had to like it.

"This is all your fault, you moron!" I snapped when we were in the halls.

"In what universe?" she scoffed, trying to storm away from me.

"You couldn't just let me quietly insult you," I said, keeping pace. "You just HAD to respond!"

"Hey, I was the one trying to listen to the project guidelines in the first place!" She stopped and turned to yell at me. "If you could just let me be for once, I wouldn't be stuck doing this with you!"

"Stuck?" A derisive snort came out. "I'M the one stuck with YOU, Freakenstein!"

"Augh!!!" she screamed, stomping off to her locker. Even the sight of Mr. Kraft giving her a detention for being too loud couldn't cheer me up.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Yeah, this is where it got truly unfortunate; I was partnered with my worst enemy, on a project that wasn't due for over a month... which meant WEEKS of facetime with that fashion disaster. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry - I wanted to strangle her. Maybe I could use her as my science project; an alien cadaver, ripe for dissecting...

The rest of the day passed in a haze; math tutoring, cheerleading practice, a llama in the cafeteria (ordinarily that might have been weird, but I wasn't paying attention). Nothing took up more headspace than the gnawing of dread in the pit of my stomach; I knew at some point I'd have to talk to Sabrina about the project, and we'd have to get together to work on it, so I couldn't enjoy anything - not even picking on Burphead. So, when the bell told us the day was over, I made my way to my locker and braced myself for impact...

"Libby, wait!" Hurricane Sabrina has touched down.

"What do you want, flake?"

She fidgeted. "Well, I was just wondering-"

"Save it." I slammed the door and shouldered my bag. "This is how it's going to go. Pick whatever project you want. I'll do my half of the work, you do yours. You give your half to me, I'll fix all the mistakes you WILL make, slap them together and meet you at the fair."

She looked confused for a moment (big surprise), then laughed. "Oh, right. Actually, I was wondering if we could forget about the project and just take the detentions."

Now I admit, this caught me off guard. "W-what? But... but I thought you wanted to do this science thing."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I wanted to do something cool, but it seems like a lot of pressure... and while I'm not crazy about a month straight of detentions, you and I just don't cooperate very well."

"Well... that's true, it's difficult to work with the 'normalcy-challenged', but... I will not be taking detention. I plan to go ivy league, and detentions don't reflect well on-"

"Oh, come on, Libby, let's get real," she interrupted, and for once she looked very, very tired. "You hate me. You always have, and through that choice of yours, the feeling has come to be mutual. If we try to make this joint project, we'll just end up ripping each other to shreds, so what's the point?"

"Believe me, I'm all too aware." Why did she have to make this harder? "But I don't want the disciplinary action on my record, and... if our project does well, it will look good on my applications. We did it once, and though I'd rather have root canal every day of this month, we can do it again."

"Well..." She sighed and shrugged. "Okay, I guess I'm willing to give it a shot if you are."

"So it looks like..."

I gagged on the words. The do-gooder quickly said, "You okay?", touching my arm. I jerked out of reach.

"Don't touch me, freak. Oh, I know I'm going to regret doing this because I already do, but it looks like you're my... partner."

I noticed she shuddered, too. This certainly was a recipe for disaster.

_END Chapter Three_


	4. Fine Cauldron Of Fish

"That totally sucks."

"Cee Cee, you always state the obvious," Jill snapped. "What we need is a plan, a way out."

"Oh, girls," I said with a sigh, "I've already given up on this. Don't you recognise the 'I'm just venting' tone in my voice?"

"Sorry," Cee Cee said. "Then you're really going through with it?"

"Obviously." I bent forward to apply another coat of Fairy Dust to my toenails (the watery crap was lighter than it looked in the bottle), but I almost lost the phone. "Oh, shoot!"

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, readjusting. "Anyway, it's crazy; she keeps calling me like we're bee-eff-eff or something, and all because she's freaking over this project. We have four weeks left! I mean, if she's that worried about getting everything done in time, she should just finish it herself and stop stressing  _me_ over it, right?"

"That little freak should be put on a leash," Jill said, snickering.

"We discussed the snickering," I said, but then I heard a beep. "God, there she is again... hang on, let me take this." Click. "Hello?"

"Hey, Libby!" Yep, it was the persistent freak. "I know I'm bothering you again, but what do you think about making our own aromatics? You know, perfume. Is it too fourth-grade, or can we make it look good with enough research?"

"You're interrupting a critical step in the beautification process," I snapped.

"Facial?"

I was actually too annoyed to say anything but the truth. "Toes."

"Sorry, I'll let you move on to drying and promise I won't call you for at least another hour, but while I've got you...?"

"Sure, perfume, great."

"You sure? I mean, we could always go with the standard volcano, or a tornado in a bottle. Or if you're feeling braver, this one time I saw Mr. Wizard do this thing with potatoes and semiconductors..."

"Mr. Who?"

"Uh... nevermind. I guess we can sleep on it. Well, talk to you later!"

"Please don't." Click. "Guys, you still there?"

"Yeah," Jill said. "That took long enough."

"What a Geekzilla!" I cried, mostly to the ceiling. "How am I going to get through this?!"

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Yes, in less than one week Safreakna had managed to become The Lab Partner From Hell. She was constantly bouncing project ideas off me, and even though I'm sure she ran and complained to Kinkle and Dorkhead about how difficult I was being, she was all sunshine and rainbows around me. If I weren't made of sturdier stock, the rainbows would have rubbed off... or killed me.

To spare you a few more days of wishy-washiness, we finally went with the perfume; it was easy, and at least it wasn't a stupid volcano. But even then, she wasn't satisfied; she wanted to discuss materials, and presentation, and wardrobe (I definitely had something to say there), and even if we should try to use flavourless toothpaste on the day of the fair so people wouldn't be smelling minty freshness when they were trying to smell our project. Geez, listen to that: "smell our project". Must this kind of stuff happen to me?

It was a Friday when she finally proposed the ridiculous.

"Not now, not ever!"

"But we need to!" The librarian shushed her, and she lowered her voice further. "We've only got three weeks left, and all we have is a dozen Ziplocks of smelly stuff and this notebook full of vague ideas!" She brandished it at me.

"'Harvey plus Sabrina equals heart'?" I read off the cover. She quickly put it away. "At least we're focused, aren't we?"

"Oh, I've had this since Mr. Poole, and you know how he used to drone."

"Fair enough." I sat back. "But I'm still not setting foot in your house ever again."

"Well, we could do it at your h-"

"NO!" The librarian cleared her throat, and I reluctantly leaned in closer. "What I mean is, I don't want your freak DNA all over my living space. Besides, Russell probably wouldn't leave us alone long enough to get anything done."

"Okay, Agent 99, do you have a secret location in mind for the debriefing, or do we need the Cone Of Silence?"

I ignored her obscure cultural reference (what a loser). "Sadly, no. But if you tell anyone I was there-"

"Hey, I wouldn't admit to it, either," she said, frowning at me. "What if people thought I could've contracted Libbytosis?"

"Drop dead," I hissed, getting up from the table.

"Tomorrow, around seven!" she said, earning her one last shush.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

"I must be out of my mind..."

Again, I stood at the front door of the Spellman shack. Ugly siding, ugly welcome mat, ugly everything. Ugly people inside. Ugly cat. My stunning beauty is just wasted in this eternal land of ickyness. But we had a mission to complete, so...

_Ding-Dong!_

"Why, hello, Libby!" one of the aunts said upon opening the door. I don't know her name... the beanpole who was our substitute in chemistry for a while. "I assume you're here for Sabrina?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, looking over her shoulder (or under, really). "Is she here? We're supposed to work on a science project."

"Yes, of course - the perfumes." She led me into the living room (ugh, also appalling). "You know, when Sabrina told me you were doing a project on aromatics, I thought she met aromaticity, which is something else entirely; it turns out she meant aroma compounds." Maybe that was supposed to be funny because she laughed, so I politely laughed along with her. "I tried to convince her to at least do something on nutrition and macrobiology, but with her quizzes becoming more frequent she opted for something more... pedestrian."

I blinked. "Well... yes, I'm sure our city's sidewalkers probably need to mask body odors; I hadn't thought of that. I'll be sure to add that little fact to our research."

She looked dumbfounded; what did I say? "Ahh... right. I'll just go and get Sabrina, wait here."

That left me alone with the mangy cat and the six o'clock news. Sometimes I could swear that cat actually watches what's on TV. Anyway, after a few minutes I got tired of waiting and wandered into the dining room...

...and was startled to see a swordfish, at least eight feet long, laying across the table.

"Wh... what the...?"

"Libby!" Sabrina said from behind me, rushing into the dining room. "Y-you're early!"

"What the hell is this?"

"My, uh, Aunt Hilda! Yeah, she just got back from Flordia!"

"God," I whispered, edging around the huge thing. "What does she use for bait, small children?"

"Oh yeah, sure, Libby; nothin' says 'Here, fishy fishy!' like little Timmy or Susie!" Her already-pained smile wilted a little under my stare. "Okay, so that went over like a lead balloon. Anyway, we can get to the stairs through the kitchen, here."

"But isn't that going to stink?"

What a nervous laugh... in fact, she always seemed to be a little nervous. It's exactly why she's always stood out as a freak and a half. "I'm sure Hilda will get around to cleaning it before it starts to rot; and even if she doesn't, Salem will smell it and finish it off gradually, don't worry."

But I was worried. Worried about what would happen to me in this house of horror, worried about my grade (or ranking or whatever it's called) on this project... and worried what hanging around Sabrina might do to my brain. That little voice that usually sounds like Gran kept telling me not to go up the stairs, that only certain doom was up there, but what choice did I have now?

It was off to the social gallows for me.

_END Chapter Four_


	5. In The Freak Of Time

"Welcome to my world!"

It was like walking into the Middle-Class Barbie dollhouse. Everything from the bedspread to the curtains (oh, the curtains!) screamed "I'm poor and less than coordinated". Vomit-worthy as the whole experience was, I actually mostly felt relief; I've always thought Sabrina was a complete weirdo so I had no idea what to expect going into her room. So yeah, at least there were no shrunken heads or anything.

"Have a seat," she said, pointing at the floor.

"Um... excuse me?"

"Yeah, normally I'd offer you the chair, but I figure we need plenty of space to spread out." Now she was busy pulling all sorts of stuff out of a dresser drawer. "So, what should we start with?"

Okay, we actually worked on the project for about an hour and a half, so I won't bore you with crap that I've mostly forgotten by now, to be honest. I only bothered with the first part because I wanted you to know what ghastly surroundings this scene took place in, and now I'm ready to skip ahead to the important stuff.

"Libby?"

"Hmm?" I said, waking out of a stupor. Hey, this stuff is less than riveting. "Sorry, what were you babbling about?"

The freak was definitely exasperated. "I said should we use green or yellow paper behind our factoid sheets?"

"Uhh..." I rubbed my eyes. "Shouldn't we just use pink? I mean, hello, it's perfume."

"Hmm..." She looked at the stack of multicoloured paper, still in the packaging. "Yeah, I guess, but I've always kind of been against the 'pink equals girly' stereotype... I mean, other colours can be girly too, right?"

"Look, whatever - I just want to get it all done and go home, safe in the knowledge that we won't ever have to do this again."

She laughed. "Libby, there's no way we can finish our entire presentation tonight."

There's the doom. "What? Why not?"

"Well, geez, we still have to actually make the perfume... and then we have to plan the layout of our booth, and figure out who should say what to the judges when they get to us, and we-"

"Who should say-" I grabbed my head in frustration. "Who cares?! You're wasting my precious time on pointless drivel! God, what does it matter who says what?!"

She blinked at my sudden outburst. "Uh... well, if you want credit for this, you'd probably better sound like you helped with the project; otherwise, they'll figure out I did the whole thing."

"Oh... well, I guess you have a point." I started to settle back into my stupor, but something about what she just said started nagging at the back of my mind - something just slightly out of place. What was it?

Meanwhile, she ploughed ahead. "So, I was thinking you could open by introducing yourself and me to the judges; then, I can start explaining what our project is, and we'll go back to you for-"

"Sabrina," I interrupted, still before I'd fully wrapped my mind around it; I was so preoccupied I actually used her stupid real name.

"Huh?"

"Why wouldn't you want them to think you did the whole thing?"

She hesitated. "Uh, sorry if I sound like a broken record, but... huh?!"

Believe it or not, I still didn't know where I was going with this. "You said I should know what we were talking about so... so it wouldn't look like I didn't do anything." That's when it  _really_ hit me. "But you hate me, and you love science; don't you want all the credit?"

"Libby..."

I guess I was expecting her to answer with one of her less-than-witty puns, or deflect the question some other way; but to my surprise, she actually looked hurt. "W-what?" I said quickly... which I guess only made it worse.

"Of course not!" She got up and walked to the window, then turned and glared at me. "Sure, you bust my chops every day in school, and it's definitely getting old, but... well, for better or much, much worse, we're in this project together. Do you really think I'd do something that underhanded?"

"Why not? I would. All's fair in love and war, and we've been at war since day one."

"Yeah, well I don't play dirty like that."

I didn't know what to say; she really was a mystery. Whatever you may think of me for it, if our situation was reversed I would totally take all the credit and leave her standing there, looking like an idiot. But she's been doing this project for both our sakes all along, even though she hates my guts, and (to be honest with you and myself) it kinda was my fault we had to do it in the first place. Any revenge she'd dish out would be justified, like, times three... so why? After all I've done to her, why was she being so gosh-darned nice?

She sighed and sat back down. "Well, I'm at least glad you didn't just say this was love, 'cause then I think I'd have to get you a medic."

"... _ew._ "

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Because of the unqualified weirdness at the Spellman's that night, my new plan of action that week in school was to avoid her completely. Yes, the old "ignore it and it'll go away" thing. Well, it's a load of baloney, because Safreakna is one girl it's impossible to avoid - especially if she actually needs you for any reason at all. See, I knew she was trying to do the right thing by getting me more involved in the project, but... it was just too weird. She should be glad to take all the credit, or at the very least not  _this_ determined to talk to somebody she normally wouldn't give the time of day. When did our roles reverse?

"Libby, she's behind us again."

Jill was right, of course. "Oh, God."

"Can't we walk faster?" Cee Cee whined.

"Not in these halls," I sighed. What else could I do? I stopped, turned, and said, "Something you wanted, freak?"

"It's due in a week," she said without preamble. "The fair is Saturday afternoon."

"Is there a point swimming in the freak sauce?"

She gritted her teeth. "If you don't come over Friday night to go over our presentation, you'll be totally unprepared."

"So I'll be unprepared." I sighed at the look on her face, then led her over to a more-or-less empty space in the halls. "Look, Madame Tefreaka, I appreciate you trying to help me and all, but... it's just a science project. I'll fake it, and if they ask why I don't know anything, I'll say it's because I suck at public speaking."

"Which they'll see through right away."

"Which they'll- what?"

"Come on, Libby, they'll be able to take one look at you and know you're a cheerleader," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I don't know many cheerleaders who are  _bad_ at talking."

"That's-" She had me again; it's pretty obvious that, in addition to all my other fine qualities, I'm an eloquent speaker. Unfortunately, that meant... "Oh, fine. Friday evening, but we'll do it at my house; Russell and my stepdad are going off to some stupid father-son thing, and my mom should be passed ou- I mean, busy in the study, so we won't be bothered much."

"But I thought me polluting your house was a fate worse than death?"

"I was wrong; being surrounded by Spellman vibes is. You're gone by eleven, though, okay? I need my beauty rest." I looked her up and down. "You could do with a week or so."

She made an "Oh, ha ha ha, it is to laugh" face as I stalked off toward class, thoroughly dissatisfied with... well, everything.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

"Libby, have you cleaned out that closet yet?"

I sighed. "I'll do it later, mom."

"No, you'll do it now; I have important people coming over in the morning and I want this house to be better than perfect."

"Listen, mother," I said, stalking into the kitchen where she was giving the Saran-wrapped hors d'oeuvre trays a critical eye, "I've got a frea- uhh, friend coming over pretty soon for school stuff... does the closet really need to be clean?"

"The guests have to hang their coats somewhere."

"It's sixty-six degrees out there; don't they know they only need a good cardigan for this weather?"

She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut (this is how she tells me I'm stressing her out). "Libby, I don't have time for your childish whining; just do as I ask for once, please."

"But mother-"

"No buts!" She crossed her arms. "I swear, sometimes you whine just like your father did."

"Well, how would I know about that?" I said pointedly.

"You listen here," she growled savagely, levelling her finger at me; she was talking so forcefully now that I could just barely smell the hint of bourbon on her breath, which told me she'd already had her afternoon libation. "That man was nothing but a snivelling worm, and if you don't watch yourself you'll grow up to be just like him: a spineless, directionless nothing." She turned back to the trays, adding just quiet enough so I could still hear it, "I can already see it happening."

"Oh, right," I said, trying to keep my cool (and failing a little). "And Reed is just a picture of perfection; his idea of being a good parent this morning was  _almost_ remembering my name before running off to the office, which is where he  _still is._  By the way, you should remind him I'm  _not_ 'Lacey'."

Her knuckles were turning white on the counter. "Reed knows the meaning of responsibility; he's a good, strong man who-"

"Who just wants a trophy wife," I finished. "How's life on the mantle, mom?"

"Don't you  _dare_ speak to me that way!" She whirled, nostrils flaring - and she was clutching a spatula. "You are an ungrateful little brat, you know that? I've broken my back every day for the past sixteen years, trying to raise a smart, independant daughter, and-"

"And you got one," I screamed; there was no holding back, now. "Congratufreakinglations, I'm just like you - and I'm SEVENTEEN, you whore!"

Well, obviously she threw it. Don't worry - between this and cheerleading, I've developed some pretty good reflexes by now.

Maybe I should spare you the last couple minutes of conversation, which were somehow actually worse than what you  _did_ see. We'll move on to me throwing myself on my bed, squeezing my pillow into pieces and trying my darndest not to break down completely. This is the Chesslers in Suburbia - isn't it nice? Or should I say this is the Von Browns in Suburbia. Can you believe they wanted me to change my name to Von Brown when they got hitched? As if! It's revolting! I think I'll be hanging onto Chessler for a while longer, thanks.

I was still thinking all of this when the door creaked open; I screamed, "Go away, you old hag!"

"...Libby?!"

Oh crap - not  _her._

_END Chapter Five_


	6. Tears Of A Freak

Faster than I could have thought possible, I felt her hand on my shoulder. "Libby, what's wrong?"

"Get off, you freak!" I growled, pulling away from her, making sure she couldn't see my face. "We'll have to finish the project in the morning, now's a bad time."

"Lib-"

"I'll come by your house in the morning."

"B-"

_"GO, you idiot!!!"_

Oops - I'd accidentally turned my head a little to yell at her more directly. I tried to turn back fast enough so she wouldn't see, but...

"Libby, are you... crying?"

"No, my face is leaking battery acid," I said, knowing I wasn't making any sense. "And if you don't want me to burn you with it, you'd better go."

Of course, she sat down on the bed next to me. "Hey, c'mon..."

"I'm not kidding, Freakbreath!"

She sighed in frustration. "Would you cut that out? I'm trying to help you."

I cleared my throat so as to speak as clearly as possible. "I do not want, nor have I ever needed the help of the likes of you. Now, would you be so kind as to leave me in peace?"

"No."

Running out of other ideas, I dropped all pretense and turned to face her. " _Why?!_  Why won't you just leave me alone? Why have you been trying to be all nice to me every chance you get?! You're like a really friendly case of chicken pox - you just won't back off until you've run your course, will you?!"

"Nope." And she was smiling... but not that plastic smile she's normally wearing. Her eyes were a little wider, as if she really were concerned this time - or maybe even scared.

And before I knew what I was doing, before I could take a step back into the realm of rational thought and stop myself, I was crying into Sabrina's shoulder. Both of us tensed up when it first happened, but then I was sobbing uncontrollably, and she was rubbing my back with one hand, holding the back of my head with the other.

It was so humiliating - she was acting like the mother my mother should be. When did everything stop making sense? Up was down, black was white, Gucci was Prada... I was so bewildered, I didn't know what I was doing, or why any of this was happening, especially to me. And all the while, she just held me... like this was perfectly natural, instead of something from the bizarro world. And I wanted to hurt her for putting me in this position, I wanted to beat her senseless and throw her out the window... and yet, all I did was cry harder, cling to her tighter and tighter. It felt like if I let go I'd have to go back to the real world, and as awful and wrong as this bizarro world was, it wasn't as harsh as reality.

Hours must have passed like that; every time I tried to pull away violently, I'd just fall right back down. When I finally sat up and stared into her face through my veil of tears, I could tell she had cried a little, too... which made me hug her, an honest-to-God hug. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but it was like even though she didn't know what was going on, she had shared some of my pain and made it easier - lighter - for me in the process. I mean, hey, in this parallel universe, of course it made sense.

Finally, I sat back and started with, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For... that," I said, gesturing to the huge wet spot on the shoulder of her blouse. "I- I don't know what's wrong with me."

She coughed. "Libby, if it's anything I did..."

"No," I said quickly. "Well, you have been totally weirding me out lately, and... I guess it'd be easy for me to explain it away like that, but..." I cleared my throat; this was harder to do rationally. "...as much as I hate to say it, I couldn't do that to you, and after seeing me like this, you should probably know what really happened."

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

And so I told her. It only took maybe five minutes, but it felt like I'd been telling the story since I was born. I could tell it was freaking her out; I know from reading between the lines of rumour and hearsay that her parents split up, moved far away and dropped her off at her aunts' house, which probably sucked, but she'd also never had a parent quite like my mother. By the end of the story, she was curled up with one of my pillows, looking kind of bleak and depressed.

"Geez..." It seemed to be about all she could say.

"So don't worry too much about it," I concluded. "I mean, I know I was blubbering all over the place, but with you being twelve kinds of nice and my mom being especially..."

"Bitchy?"

"Yeah." I couldn't resist the small smile; the girl scout swore again. "Anyway, all that and our regular schoolwork load combined just built up and exploded, I guess. It's nothing."

"No it's not," she insisted. "I mean, I get that you're used to it, like I'm used to my Aunts being unbelievably weird, but... it doesn't mean it's nothing."

I glared at her. "You can't make a big deal out of this, because it's not. That's all there is to it."

"I'm not saying it's a big deal," she reiterated, gesturing emphatically. "Just... listen. I don't want you to think you're weak or whatever just because you broke down on m-"

"Oh my God, you can't tell anybody about this!" Yeah, that hit me in the gut. "I swear, if you tell anybody, I'll-"

" _Libby!_ " She looked like she wanted to hit me again... like she did in her room. "Dammit, you need better friends!" Then she did something she'd been doing a lot lately and laid her hand on my arm - and just this once, I didn't jerk away immediately. "This isn't ammo to me, seriously. It's just one of those things... and I wouldn't even  _want_ to tell anybody like it's some big joke, because those kind of jokes just aren't funny."

And still it kept coming; her well of kindness really does spring eternal, I guess. "Really?"

"Definitely." She stretched out on the bed. "Now, if I'd come in here and found you playing with My Little Pony or something, that would totally be all over the school, 'cause that's hilarious."

It was a lame joke, but after all that emotional venting I couldn't help it - I laughed. And I mean I really laughed, like I was a little kid, staying up all night with my friends and making up stories. Then, when I didn't stop, Sabrina laughed with me, and though I felt like the world outside was going to change forever when my brain started thinking again, and though I knew my life would try to go back to being the same maddening, oppressive mess as always, it was like... being inside a good memory. All the stress and details just melted away for those few precious hours, and for the first time in a long time, I felt... happy.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

A bright yellow Spring sun was streaming through the window when my eyes fluttered open. I can't remember when I slept that well! I knew I should be getting up soon, but my bed just felt sooooo good... sighing, I rolled over and hugged one of my pillows, nuzzling back in for a few more minutes.

But I couldn't remember having a pillow this warm. I opened my eyes for a second to see which pillow it was, and froze.

Why was Sabrina in my bed?

_END Chapter Six_


	7. Some Freaky Morning

Why yes, it's more than a little icky, thanks, but I woke up holding Sabrina Spellman. Worse than that, I was too shocked to move. Her face was literally right in front of mine; I could see every eyelash, every pore (oh God, the pores!)... her breath was warm on my face. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest on mine, and her back's mirrored movements under my hand. She snored a little, actually - I should've known. Still, now that she was asleep and therefore not whining or sticking her nose into other people's business, I couldn't help but think she was almost... cute.

Right about there's when I started screaming. And when that woke her up, she joined me.

It took a few seconds for us to disentangle ourselves from... ourselves. I backed to the wall, still screaming, and she jumped off my bed backwards, landing on her butt. By the time she caught her breath, my screams had given way to a constant stream of "Oh God oh God oh God..."

"Libby," she panted, jumping up and grabbing my shoulders. "Snap out of it!"

"Oh God oh God oh God-"

She slapped me, just hard enough for me to wake up and slap her back.

" _Ow!_ "

"Serves you right for striking my flawless face," I growled, still a little dazed. I pushed past her and headed for my vanity mirror, clutching the back of my chair and trying not to vomit. "What... what happened last night?"

"Um... I dunno," she confessed, running a hand through her ratty hair and looking around the room. "Hey, where are my shoes?"

"Believe me, in this tasteful room your neon-orange pumps ought to stand out," I spat, straining to keep the idea of this whole ordeal from overpowering me. "One of these things is not like the other or whatever."

She'd become good at ignoring those comments. "The last thing I remember... is talking about Brad Pitt, maybe."

"No," I said, turning; the fog was lifting. "No, we'd moved on from Brad to Keanu. No, wait... we were talking about some guy named Dashiell, I think." I pulled at my poor scalp. "Oh, I don't remember!"

"We must've just passed out," she said, laughing a little with relief. "Wow, that's one way I never thought I'd wake up, eh?"

"Yeah," I said distractedly, and then a fresh wave of nausea hit. "Oh my God, I actually spent the night with Freakerella. Ew,  _ew_ ,  _EWWW!_ "

"The feeling's mutual," she said quickly. "A _ha!_ "

"What?!"

She was standing up with one shoe in hand. "Just have to find the other one... there it is, under that flapper hat of yours."

"Oh yeah..." I laughed automatically. "We actually did the foxtrot, didn't we?" And I realized what I was saying. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Libby-"

"Listen, you," I started, whirling on her. "I don't know exactly why I went insane last night, but... but whatever it was, it stays in the past. This room is like Vegas now, okay?"

"Got it," she said with a thin smile. "Nobody can know we had any fun; it's all misery all the time when we're together. I'll just be going now."

"You do that." I sunk into the chair. "I... I need to think."

"Gotcha." And she was out the door, ugly pumps in hand.

 _God, if you're out there, why did you do this to me? Am I being punished for something? All I did was be hot, brilliant and popular. Are those felonies now?_  Evidently, the answer was yes, because nothing short of murder or wearing a pancho could earn me a sentence like this: the knowledge that I had slept all snuggled up to that freakwad, a memory I knew I could never erase no matter how many times I banged my head on the table.

I was still banging my head on the table when the door slammed open. "Libby!"

"No!" I said, jumping up. "What part of 'get away from me' do you find hard to understand?! The 'get', or the 'from', or maybe-"

"No, shut up!" She ran into the room, pointing at her tacky watch; her eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them. "It's almost nine!"

"So what?!" I screamed, automatically backing up from her (I never wanted to be within three feet of that girl again!). "Did you miss your morning kibble?"

"If we don't leave right now, we won't have time to go by my house, grab all our crap and still make it to the science fair before they get to our table!"

"Oh hell," I moaned. "Then all this will have been for nothing, and I'll  _still_ get the detentions. Why  _me?!_ "

"We have to go, like, yesterday," she said, throwing a wad of clothes from my closet at me. "Pick something out of there and meet me downstairs in five minutes; I have to pee like an incontinent racehorse!" And out she went again. As I peeled off yesterday's culottes (damn dress code) and sifted through the rest of my closet, I listened to her stumble around, trying to find the bathroom. It was like being trapped in the 8th level of Hell... or Kmart. This whole thing just made me want to die.

I had it down to two choices when she ran in and asked, "Ready?"

" _HELLO,_ " I yelled, covering my underwear-only self, " _KNOCK MUCH?!?!_ "

"Sorry!" She covered her eyes for a minute, then lowered her hand. "Wait a minute, it's not like I don't see this in gym every day, so why are you flipping out?"

"Because I'm not used to people barging in like my room's a morning sale at Macy's," I growled through gritted teeth, turning back to the clothes. "Do you think the judges will like mauve or taupe?"

"Just put the taupe on, it looks like it'll take less time."

"Mauve it is," I muttered, jamming my legs into the pants. "The more sophisticated it looks, the more seriously they'll take us."

"Yeah, well once you've sophisticated yourself, meet me in the car," she ordered, heading for the door. "Remember, I have to change at my house, too."

"Why?" I said through my blouse. "You'll just look as plain as you do now."

"Ha ha. Move it!" And she whipped around the corner.

"My life is twelve varieties of ridiculous," I thought aloud as I grabbed the suit jacket and heels. "But I guess I gotta."

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

For something as geeky as this that I shouldn't give two figs about, I was pretty nervous at the fair. We had table 27 - they were circling 10 when we got there. Basically, we had just enough time to hang up our little factoid sheets (the glue wasn't working and we couldn't find any tape, so we finally had to use Juicy Fruit; I let Sabrina handle that part) and spread out our little bottles of perfume-like crap before they got to our row. Amazingly enough, thanks to Sabrina's meticulous planning, it actually looked like we'd been set up for hours instead of minutes.

"Wow, are we lucky; I must've hit every single green light between your house and the school."

"Yeah, uh, that is weird," she admitted, lining up our bags of leftover ingredients. "But whatever, it's a Saturday; lights are more prone to green."

"I guess." I sighed, straightening my blouse. "Do I look okay? Anything in my teeth?"

"You're clear. How about me?"

I scoffed. "How  _about_ you? Ow!"

She kicked me in the shin - just a light one, but I still can't believe she kicked me! "Stay with me, here; if I look like a wreck we both look like a wreck!"

"Right, right," I said, looking her over. Well, there's only so much to work with, but the little freak was working it pretty well, actually; nice silk blouse in a lime green, rather dark tan skirt to offset it... her hair was up, almost as intricately as mine. Also, she'd bothered to slap on a little makeup, which never hurts with pores like those. "You look fine, but you should probably buy new stockings; I think I see a budding run."

"Thanks," she said, turning back to look at the judges. "I guess that's the closest I'll ever come to getting a compliment from you."

"Got that right."

While the judges scrutinised the next few tables, Sabrina quizzed me on our stuff; something about eucalyptus and windows. Then, at long last, it was our turn.

"Perfume, huh?" Mr. Kraft said, shaking his head and making a note on his clipboard. "Once upon a time, students all did volcanoes and tornadoes in bottles. I guess this is a herald of that 'new millenium' thing I've been hearing about."

To my surprise, Mrs. Quick was a judge; that at least explains why she was so gung-ho about the whole thing. "Oh, hello there, Sabrina, Libby." She smiled, looking over our table. "So, what do we have here?"

"Well, judges" I began, giving Sabrina a quick glance before looking all the judges in the eye, "we chose to do our project on aromatic oils; we wanted to see which base materials produced the strongest scents."

And so it went; I talked, Sabrina went into her shpiel, they asked questions and wrote things down... it wasn't as complicated as I thought it was gonna be. Mrs. Quick and the other woman judge (didn't know her) seemed to like our project more than Mr. Kraft and Principal Larue did, but... duh. Just for good measure, while the others were reading the fact sheets I gave Mr. Kraft a pathetic "Please vote for us?" face, to which he sighed and looked like he was caught between a rock and a hard place - voting for me, his favourite student, or against Sabrina, our sworn enemy.

"Whew," Sabrina breathed as they moved on to Billy Ziegler's booth on spores or whatever. "Do you feel like you'll ever want to smile that much ever again?"

"Only when I become prom queen." Unable to stand for much longer, I leaned against the table. "What do you think our chances are?"

"Slim to none... I saw at least one robot making eggs benedict on the way in."

"Oh, perfect."

_END Chapter Seven_


	8. Rollercoaster Of Freakiness

It was almost an hour later when Mr. Kraft finally stepped up to the stage mic. "Young scientists, may I have your attention, please?" A hush fell over the throng of dorks as Mrs. Quick wheeled a cart full of pretty ribbons into the room. "Thank you. Now, after a long, arduous decision making process - one involving dice - we have the prize rankings for your entries."

"This is it," Sabrina squeaked, crossing her fingers.

"You are too lame," I whispered... but I crossed mine, too. What? I put some work into this and I was expecting payout.

"Fourth place and the yellow ribbon goes to... Harvey Kinkle, for his project displaying the effects of time on... cheese."

A smattering of applause as Kinkle jumped up and pumped his fist in the air; it was all I could see of him from where we were. I also noticed Sabrina grinning like an idiot because her boyfriend placed; what a touching display of Spielbergian schmaltz.

"Yes, yes, how wonderful," Mr. Kraft said, smoothing his Colonel Mustard moustache before continuing. "Third place, and this mediocre trophy, goes to... Larry Worcestershire and Ophelia Jones, for their working model of a dynamo!"

More clapping, blah blah blah. "Settle down, settle down." He coughed and shuffled his cards. "Second place, this handsome trophy, and a coupon for a free large pizza pie at The Slicery goes to... Libby Chessler and, uh, friend, for their project on the creation of aromatic oils!"

My jaw dropped; our crappy project actually got us second? I mean, I'm used to getting first place in everything, but with Sabrina involved I was sure we wouldn't even place. I glanced at Mr. Kraft as the students applauded us, and he shrugged, mouthing, "It's the best I could do."

"Libby, we did it!" Sabrina shouted, turning to me.

"Yeah!"

And before I knew what I was doing, we were hugging and jumping up and down, laughing. We won! Even though we just threw the project together and got it here at the last minute, we beat out Harvey and his moldy cheese and all those other guys! And it was all thanks to Sabrina - her lame idea actually turned out to be just what we needed.

"Libby?" she laughed.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

What  _were_ we doing?

As we let go and coughed uncomfortably, I noticed Birkhead out of the corner of my eye looking at us funny (nevermind how funny she looked under her solar-powered jewelry-cleaning hat); a little further down, Jill and Cee Cee were whispering urgently.

"What are you trying to do to me, freak?" I said quickly, smoothing out my jacket.

"I don't know," she hissed, looking at me the way... well, the way I usually look at her when she's just done something unforgivably strange. "I was going for a high-five when you initiated the gigglefest."

"I got caught up in the moment." Searching for something to do so I didn't feel so weird, I straightened out our bottles. "Don't start thinking I don't hate you or anything, 'cause... well, I do."

"Oh yeah, of course," she laughed. "Why would I think any differently?"

Luckily, before I could respond, Mrs. Quick showed up and handed us our red ribbon, trophy and coupon, beaming at us like she just came back from a spa day. "Congratulations, you two! See, I knew you guys would learn something from this!"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, slapping on my patented pleasantly-sweet smile. "And we're very sorry for interrupting your class. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to learn together instead of serving useless detentions."

"Oh, you deserve it," she said, clasping her hands in front of her chest. "You girls are usually my best students, so I didn't think sitting around after class was a very good use of your time. Anyway, enjoy that pizza!"

As she moved off with the cart and its remaining prizes, Sabrina said, "Oh look - the trophy has a tiny microscope on top. How cute!"

"Yes, it's just plain loveable." I looked down at the ribbon. "You know, I'd rather have this non-space-hogging ribbon; you can have the trophy. It'll probably be the only one you ever get, anyway."

"Really?" For some reason, her eyes actually lit up. "You mean that? You don't want to share custody or anything?"

"Unnecessary contact with you? I think not." Then I had another thought, and sighed. "And you can have the coupon, too; take Harvey."

She blinked at me, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure? I mean, I figured you'd find some tolerable guy and party all night."

"Don't look a gift-pony in the mouth," I said, putting myself above any common gift-horse. "I just don't feel like pizza tonight, so stop trying to read anything into this."

"Thanks!" She put the coupon in her pocket, then looked at me. "Y'know, you could come with us... if you don't mind choking down some pepperonis anyway. I mean, it's half yours."

"Who are we kidding here? It's all yours, you did the work."

We both stopped and stared at each other, and we both knew why. It's one thing for Freakly Do-Right to be nice to everyone and everything, but...  _I_ was actually being nice to  _her_. Was she rubbing off on me?

"Libby-"

"Smile for the camera!"

We had just enough time to whip around, plaster on eager-beaver smiles and hold up our trophy before the flash bulb went off; we spent the next several seconds wondering who had turned the science fair into the Fourth Of July.

"I have to go," I blurted out, feeling around for my purse (and finding it on the third try). "I just- I'd like to take a long, hot bath after being surrounded by nerd germs. You can get a ride from Harvey, right?"

She just stared at me, her eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly open - I was doing it again.

"...uh, of course you can. Not like I care if you ever make it home. Uh, bye."

Lightspeed wasn't fast enough as I speedwalked out of there - I almost broke into a run, but I was trying to salvage some dignity, and that wouldn't work if I kept tripping over stuff since my vision was still clearing. Was I going soft in my old age? I mean, in a few months we'd be seniors; maybe I was losing the ability to rule with an iron fist. But I couldn't just say it was all me losing it - I knew it was her. There was something weird about her, there always had been, but maybe not all of it was weird-bad. That freak couldn't stop herself from spewing kindness all over, even on me, and maybe, just maybe, I soaked a little of it up.

Had Sabrina Spellman figured out how to melt the ice queen?

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

"You're home, finally."

I sighed as I dropped my purse by the coatrack. "Yes, mother. Sorry I'm late, but I stopped at TCBY for something chocolate. I'm in a bad mood, so if it's okay, I'm just gonna grab an Evian and go-"

"Please, have a seat."

I looked at the couch for the first time and saw Reed was actually sitting next to her. "Wh-what's going on?" I asked as I slowly moved toward the recliner.

"We need to talk about your attitude lately."

"What about it?"

"It stinks," Reed said flatly.

"Well, same to you," I mumbled, confused.

"See, that's what we mean, right there," Mother put in. "You've been increasingly rude and insensitive toward us ever since we were married."

"Well, I'm sorry, but-"

"We don't think you're sorry," Reed said, shaking his sandy-haired head. "Everything you say just sounds... insincere."

What was this? "Since when are you even around to hear what I'm saying, anyway?"

"Young lady, that's enough," Mom barked. "You will sit there and listen, for once."

"No," I said, adding an extra-insincere, "thank you."

"That's it. You shape up, or you may find yourself out on the street."

Now, I have to admit that caught me off guard; I was expecting the old boarding school threat, or maybe a good grounding for a couple weeks. "What are you talking about?"

"Libby," Reed continued, taking Mom's hand, "your mother and I have talked about this, and your bile and venom is very hard on her. If you can't live in this house peacefully, then I'm sorry, but you just can't live in this house."

"Oh, says you, huh?!" I shout. I was pissed now; how  _dare_ he! "You can't move into  _our_ house, then tell  _me_ I'm not welcome here - I was here first, you... you buttbrain!" Hmm, maybe that crack was a little on the uninventive side, but... I was under pressure!

"Yes, but he's not an unpleasant little whelp like you," Mom said.

"Wh-what?"

Her eyes were so cold I couldn't stand it. "We've both had enough of you and your crap, Libby. Either you shape up or ship out, simple as that."

I could feel the tears forming, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. "How can you do this to me? Isn't this illegal?"

"No, it isn't," Reed said. "You're over sixteen, eligible for emancipation."

Of course, that's nothing but a load; the whole emancipation of minors thing doesn't quite work that way... as I know  _now_. Too bad that info couldn't help me  _then,_  and his line sounded good enough that I actually bought it. " _What?!_ But... but you can't! Where will I go?!"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to think about that, won't you?"

My mouth worked, but no sound came out.

"I'm glad we had this talk," Mother said, turning her attention back to Reed.

All I could think to do was grab my purse and run back outside. I wanted to run upstairs to my room, but not while they were still in that house. The top was down on my convertible, so in I went; not that I knew where I was going or what I was doing, but I had to get away from there.

As the wind whipped the tears from my eyes, I tried to think, but nothing was coming to mind. I couldn't live with Mom and Reed, not the way they were being now. My friends all have shabby little huts compared to my house, so I didn't think they'd have room to put me up. I don't have a job to get an apartment, and some nasty motel was out of the question (and my price range). What could I do?

So I just drove away... and I was never going back.

_END Chapter Eight_


	9. Freakleration of Independence

Unfortunately, I ran out of gas.

Well, I probably would've done that anyway, since my brain couldn't let me focus on anything so trivial as the fuel gague and I might have kept driving mindlessly until I left Massachusetts... but I didn't expect to run out of gas four blocks away from my house.

" _ARGH!!!_ " I yelled, kicking a tire. "Why do you have to be empty  _now?!_ "

"Libby?"

I glanced up to see that Valerie walking out of Starbucks, sipping something warm. Now, I apologise in advance for how coma-inducing this conversation is, but it only gets so good with a girl like that.

"Oh... hello, Birkhead." I nonchalantly wiped my eyes, trying to make it look like I was straightening my hair. "Decided to play among the humans for a change?"

"Why are you beating up your car?"

God, what a nosy little swine. "It asked me annoying questions." Oh, what the hell; it's not like sinking yet lower would make much difference today. "I'm out of gas, that's all. I was too distracted to fill up this morning."

"Oh... well, there's a gas station right there," she said, pointing across the street ( _how the hell did I miss that?!_ ). "Do you have a can?"

"A... can."

"A gas can," she said, laughing a little. "You could probably buy one there, though... or somebody could push your car to the pump, maybe?"

"Sure... thanks." As I started walking, I called over my shoulder, "In return, I won't tell anybody about those polka-dot socks you're wearing, but only if you never wear them again."

"Oh... okay!" What a doorknob. "Hey, Libby?"

"What?"

"Have you been... y'know, crying?"

What was  _with_ people lately? "No, why?"

"Well, your eyes are all puffy and your nose is red." She took a quick sip of her latte or whatever. "I wondered if it had something to do with you and Sabrina getting the red ribbon... not good enough, right?"

"Valerie," I said patiently with a tight smile. "This all falls under the category of none of your business. Now run along and play in traffic while I get some gas in this baby."

"Are you and her friends now or something?"

You know, next to her, Sabrina is almost tolerable. "That's right! We're all just super-duper pals! And if you actually follow me to the gas station, I'll make you lick their bathroom floors!"

"Oh..." She frowned nervously. "Um, okay. Good luck."

Finally, that was over. Still, even if I got some gas in the car, what would that solve? I'd still be precariously close to being thrown out. The thoughts went around and around forever, but they kept going back to the same place: I at least had to go home tonight, I had no choice. Maybe I could be the perfect daughter for a few days until I had a real plan.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah... can you help me get my car from across the street?"

The clerk's blank "you gotta be kidding me" look was just par for the course by now.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Monday morning came, and with it all the frivilous concerns of school. Though my parents kept giving me funny looks all day Sunday, they were a little nicer that morning... maybe because I was being so sweet it gave me a toothache. At any rate, after first period, Jill and Cee Cee caught up with me in the halls and asked me what was going on, so I told them.

"But they can't kick you out!" Cee Cee said. "It's like, against the rules or something!"

"I know, I know," I said, "but evidiently they can and will."

"What stupid, evil dummies," Jill spat, her arm around my shoulders. "If they don't care about somebody like you anymore, they don't know what they're missing."

As if this all weren't bad enough, Safreakna was in the hall; she was the last person I wanted to talk to today, especially after the fair. I steered us around her. "Just because my parents have threatened to evict me doesn't mean they've stopped caring..."

"Of course they haven't," Cee Cee cooed. Even though I know patronisation when I hear it - I  _invented_ it - it was still nice of her.

The rest of the day passed in a haze; nothing seemed to matter as much when you don't know where you'll be living tomorrow. I tried to concentrate on figuring out a plan, but that didn't work, either; I just kept picturing myself homeless in a gutter somewhere, clutching ratty old castoffs and being grateful for a heating vent. It wasn't pretty.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

I really should spare you the drama of what happened next, but... well, I can't leave this out. If you want to read it, go ahead, but otherwise you can just skip this section; you'll figure out what happened by reading the next chapter, anyway.

When I got home from school, my mother was standing in the middle of the living room, dressed like Donna Reed and smiling from ear to ear. Again, I felt the bizarro influence of... was there a full moon? Was that it?

"Good afternoon, honey!"

"...hhhhhi."

"How was your day at school?"

"Oh, it was fine, I guess."

"Really? That's nice. Want some cookies?"

Now  _this_ was weird. "Uhhh... sure."

She reached over to the buffet and handed me a tin of shortbread cookies; I took one and chewed on the end of it. "Now then," she continued, "we have something to tell you."

Again, I hadn't noticed Reed on the couch; I think I have a mental blinder for him or something. She sat down next to him, and I sat nervously on the arm of the recliner. "What is it, Mommy?" Hey, it couldn't hurt.

"Well, your father and I have decided to tell you something."

"Is it something good?"

"Well... not particularly."

My heart sank. This couldn't be happening. "Oh?"

"You see, Libby... we don't love you anymore."

And my heart fell through my stomach and shattered all over the floor.

"Really," Reed commented, "I never loved you."

"You know what?" she said, looking at him. "Neither did I."

They both shared a laugh; I broke down into tears.

"Oh, come on, Libby, don't be that way," Reed said heartily. "You dropped that cookie on our clean carpet. Besides, it's not the end of the world."

"It's just the end of your living in ours," Mom said. "We want you out."

"But... but I tried to be good," I blubbered. "I tried to be- be how you wanted me to be, and you- you-"

"Aww, don't cry," she cooed. "You'll drip mascara all over our ottoman, and then what will we do?"

"I- I-"

"You should start packing your things tonight," Reed supplied helpfully. "That way, you'll be ready tomorrow morning when we toss you out on your oversized butt."

I gasped. "Wh- _what?!_ " I mean, even though it was the least of my worries, since when had my stepfather been ogling my behind? Oh yeah, and the 'being thrown out _tomorrow_ ' thing sucked, too. "I- I can't-"

"But you must," Mother said. "Or we'll just throw all your things on the lawn for you to pick up later."

"N- no! You- you can't really mean this!"

"We do, sweetie," she said firmly. "The matter is closed."

That's when I ran to my room.

_END Chapter Nine_


	10. The Chessler Stands Alone

_RI-I-I-I-I-ING!_

Was that the bell? I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Had I dozed off in class? No. Wait...  _no!_  It wasn't a dream. This was really happening - to me! I slumped back over and cried. It just isn't fair!

Soon enough, students were walking through the halls, staring at me... or at least at the vanity dresser that was randomly next to my locker for no apparent reason. Couldn't they all see a teen in crisis, here? Someone needed to help me, bring me some food - or at least not point and stare! This must be what it's like to be a good leather jacket in a store window... or worse: a freak!

Eventually, as I knew it would, I heard an all-too-familiar voice say, "Libby, what's wrong?"

I didn't have the energy for anything anymore. "My parents have kicked me out."

"Oh, I had no idea... and I had absolutely nothing to do with it," she added for some reason. Sometimes I really didn't get her.

I sat up and held my handkerchief to my eye; it was then that I noticed Harvey was with her, but for some reason he was hiding a basketball under his shirt... not that I cared right then. "My mom said they don't love me anymore... my dad said they never did. What am I gonna do?"

"I'm so sorry," Sabrina said quietly, stretching her hand out again... but I couldn't take it. I got up and ran - I ran for the bathroom, or China, or something. I just didn't want to exist anymore.

Alas, even though I was sure if I used the old bathroom (and believe me, there's a reason it's called that) down in the basement that no one would bother me, I was sorely mistaken.

"Libby," Sabrina began, "do you-"

"No," I sobbed, sliding down the wall onto the grimy floor - see what they all reduced me to? "J-just go away. I... I wanna be alone."

"It sounds to me like you're a little  _too_ alone right now."

"Yes, I am. Thanks for rubbing it in."

She blanched. "I didn't mean-"

"Just go, please? I c-can't handle grief from you right now."

"I'm not trying to give you grief," she said stubbornly. "I'm trying to get rid of it! C'mon, I- I wanna help, or at least listen or something."

"Oh, what can you do? Can you make my mom..." I couldn't even finish the sentence without bursting into tears again. "Oh, God! My parents hate me!"

And before I could stop her, or even find the will to try, she was holding me again. Wow, I couldn't even go a whole week without crying all over her shoulder like a big damn baby.

"How can they do this to me?" I sobbed. "I'm only s-seventeen! These are supposed to be the best years of my life, and I have to worry about getting a job and an apartment all of a sudden? It... it's not fair!"

"Shh." Her hand on my head made me feel like I could say anything and it wouldn't come back to bite me on the ass later.

"And Mom! I m-mean, I know we were never like friends, but I thought she- she- and now she just decides I'm not worth the time anymore! How am I going to survive?!"

"I know, I know..." Under her breath, she said, "Damn you, Calzone..."

"W-what?"

"Uh, nothing," she said, coughing a little. "Just, I ate this calzone for breakfast and it's repeating on me. Anyway, your mom's way out of line; she can't throw her own daughter out on her ear like this! Besides, you're worth more than that."

"Y-yeah?" I sobbed, glancing up at her.

"Oh, totally," she said, smiling sadly. "Come on, Libby, not even a cheerleader deserves to be alone."

Almost like magic (or whatever), we kinda went right back to Friday night. It felt exactly the same in every way: uncomfortable, wrong... safe. I couldn't stop crying; nevermind that this was the enemy, and that I wished it was somebody else. I'd try to stop, but a part of me didn't want to, so I just let it out, hoping it would go away - but this time, I don't think it was ever going to go away. For no reason, I was on my own in the world... and it was scary.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

A veil of sleep still floated around me when I heard quiet snoring. When my eyes opened, I saw Sabrina's face, upside down and on the left, bobbing slightly.

" _Aaah!_ "

"Hnnghgh?" she snorted, jumping. It was then that I realised my head was in her lap.

"Wh... what happened?"

"Oh..." She rubbed her eyes as I sat up. "Yeah, Libby, you passed out; I think all that crying literally wiped you out. I didn't know what else to do, so I let you sleep."

"Okay, but..." I turned around to look at her directly. "...why are you still here?"

A wan smile pulled at her mouth. "You really think I'd just leave you alone in this basement? I don't trust that wily Janitor Bob..."

"You have to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"Being so freaking nice!" I rubbed my face to get the tear-streaks off. "Why are you doing this to me? I've tried to figure it out, and... I can't."  _That_ part was tough; admitting anything was beyond the scope of my brilliant mind. "You're going to have to just tell me."

"Libby," she said, smiling a confused smile, "I'm not 'being' nice to you, I'm just... being nice to you."

"... _huh?!_ "

"Listen," she said, shifting to draw her knees up to her chin. "I just... I know we have our back-and-forth, but I turned over a new leaf a few months ago. I decided to try to be a little nicer to you, because maybe it was partly my fault we were all Hatfield and McCoy. Really, I'm not trying to bug you with it, or set you up for some kinda trap or whatever. I mean it."

It's just something I couldn't fathom; she wanted to be that nice to me with nothing in return? "You... you take all the crap I throw at you, that I've thrown at you every day since I made you go use the freaks' bathroom in Sophomore year, and- and yet you still don't hate my guts?"

"Nope," she said simply. "Sure, you might not be my favourite person in the world due to aforementioned crap, but I don't hate you  _or_ your guts." Her eyes squinted a little, the way you might if you're bracing for impact. "Do you... hate mine?"

...Okay.

I wanted to put a space there for you, because this is important. I mean, as crazy as all that other stuff is, and as much as that probably meant more in the long run, this... this was important personally. It was maybe the weirdest metamorphosis to ever take place inside me, and it caught me totally by surprise - and I want you to compare that to waking up on a ping-pong table in the middle of Bloomingdale's and realising you're wearing a Trekkie uniform. I just didn't see this coming.

"...no."

She blinked, and almost couldn't form the word, "R-really?"

"No," I repeated, again unable to stop it... and I'm sure my face looked like a rabbit in the headlights of a semi. "I- I guess I don't."

And a smile broke out on her face like I've never seen before; a smile like the sun as seen by a newborn. I mean, she always seems happy-go-lucky, like a kid in a candy store, but this, it was like... joy. Like I felt it that night in my room because...

"Maybe I like you. A little," I qualified - let's not get  _too_ ahead of ourselves.

I knew she couldn't possibly do anything else, but I still jumped when she threw her arms around me and laughed that laugh full of joy. It was infectious; I couldn't help but laugh with her, and I felt my face break out into a very real grin, because as much as I had resisted it, I felt better, and somehow I had that freak to thank for it. Though I can't imagine how she did it now, at the time she actually made me forget who she was and who I was supposed to be when I was around her... and even about my horrible parents and uncertain future.

Take a good look, people: this is what it looks like when friends are born.

_END Chapter Ten_


	11. Young Gums

Alright, here comes a big important disclaimer, so listen up, people.

You've just read an epic tale of mistrust, woe, heartbreak, and budding friendship, courtesy of my memoirs. It's beautiful and grand, obviously, and you're probably dabbing at your eyes with a Kleenex and going "Aww, that was awesome!" So maybe all the mysteries and questions aren't wrapped up - so what? It ended well, and that's all that matters, right?

Too bad it's not over.

Luckily, you have the option of stopping now, of closing the book (or browser window, however you're reading this) and pretending you've just finished this really touching story, and going about your day feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, like you just drank a gallon of hot cocoa. At the very least, you could throw in the bookmark (real or digital) and savor the happiness for a day or two before you come back to it. Or, you could gird up your loins (which is not as "ewww" as it sounds), take a settling breath, and keep on reading... because for the rest of the story, I'm not promising a conveniently smooth plot, or a Disney-esque happy ending. I'm promising the hell that is my life... in fact, if I told you where I was writing the rest of this from, you'd never believe me.

Oh, and while I've got you outside the flow of plot... just so you don't think I forgot, Gordie won first place at the science fair; that robo-chef was his. Yeah, I was too distracted at the time to hear Mr. Kraft announce it, but I found out later. A minor detail, but one I figured I should throw in before some of you stop reading... and this was the only convenient place to work it in.

See, this is the part where you stop if you want to keep the happy ending.

No? You sure you wanna go deeper? Okay...

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

After a few more minutes, we went back to class like nothing had happened; I was still too distracted to do very well, though, but I made a half-hearted attempt, anyway. With one more year until graduation, I was at least going to get my diploma... and by then maybe my parents would take me back. Who knows?

That's what Sabrina told me, anyway... and from her, despite her always-positive outlook, I believed it.

One thing I can't leave out is something she told me on the way back from the basement. Oh shut up, I know I'm skipping around - work with me, people.

"Just so you know, Libby, I'm sure you can stay at our house - at least for tonight."

"Really?" I wiped my eyes again. "I mean, I guess I could stand it for one night."

"Sure. But you'll have to bunk with Salem, and he snores."

"Oh yeah? Well, so do you." I blinked. "God, I can't believe I know that."

"I do  _not_ snore!"

Something awful and weird happened later, though... I'm still not sure what was really going on. The last period of the day was starting, and Cee Cee and I were walking into class.

"I can't even get my grandmother to return my phone calls," I was telling her. I mean, I didn't know for sure that's what was happening; maybe she was just out today. Anyway, when I saw Sabrina sitting on the teacher's desk waiting for class, this ugly lie just popped into my head - maybe I heard it in the halls? But I was going to ignore it today.

"Hey, Sabrina," I said hesitantly.

"Hi, Libby," she said warmly.

"Y'know," Cee Cee said, "I just heard this rumour about you... I wonder if it's true?"

I was about to hit her to get her to shut up, but just then- oh, it was horrible. The rumour was proven to be true right in front of our eyes... when she coughed and a pair of false teeth popped out into her hand.

"I  _knew_ it!" Cee Cee cried. "You've got no teeth!"

"Shut up," I hissed, trying to return one of the many favours I owed her by now, but there was no stopping this.

"Hey, everybody!" she shouted, running into the halls in front of us. "Sabrina's got no teeth!"

I tried to catch her as she ran along, telling the laughing throng of students, but she was too far ahead, and I was too exhausted from all that crying. Just as I was catching my breath, though...

The phone rang.

No, I mean a payphone rang right next to me. That was really weird... but despite the situation, I had to answer it - maybe it was something remotely important.

"Hello?"

"Libby!"

Holy crap, it was my mother! "Mommy?"

"Oh, I'm glad I got ahold of you - for some reason, this was the only number for the school I could find. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said automatically. About then, the phone next to me rang, and Mrs. Quick answered it; I tried to lean farther away so she couldn't hear me. "Just kinda tired."

"Oh, Libby..." she sighed. "After she heard your messages on her answering machine, your grandmother gave us a good chewing-out on ours... it was kind of the wake-up call I'd needed. Listen, honey, we're sorry we threw you out in the cold like that; I mean, I know we've had our differences lately, but I can't believe Reed and I actually thought this was a good solution! I blame it on that new brand of Indonesian coffee we bought."

"It- it's okay," I found myself saying (even though it  _really_ wasn't).

"No, it's not; you're moving back home this instant, young lady!"

"Really?!" I couldn't help it - I actually jumped for joy (like a big nerd), which made Mrs. Quick start as she walked away. "Oh, Mom, thank you!"

"So you'll really come back to your dumb old mother?"

I saw Sabrina walking down the hall toward the phone. "Uh, I'd love to move back in Mom, but before we go into that... you'll never believe what's happened at school today!"

As Sabrina started speaking in toothless mumbles into the receiver, I stared at the back of her head... and found I couldn't do it.

"What's that, sweetie?"

"Oh, uh... nothing, Mom. I just made a new friend, that's all."

"Well, that's nice. Listen, I have to run to a meeting with some friends of mine and you should probably get back to class, but I want to hear all about it when you get home from school, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy!" I coughed. "I mean, Mother. I love you!"

"Love you, too, honey... and I am so sorry. Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hung up, tingling with excitement, and turned around to tell Sabrina...

...but she was already gone. I hadn't noticed her leaving, and it sucked because for some reason I wanted to tell her first. Was I really disappointed to  _not_ see that freak? But oh well, I'd catch up with her later... and thank her for everything.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

But I didn't.

It's not that I wasn't grateful, but... well, the next day in school, everything kinda went back to normal; I had cheerleading practice and Prom Planning Committee, and she had Harvey and... I dunno, freak stuff, and I guess we got swept up in the everyday routine again. We'd pass in the hall, and it was a little awkward, but mostly we treated each other as nasty as we always had - with the exception that I'd always catch this knowing glint in her eye, telling me she knew I was only doing it to keep up appearances (which was true enough).

What? Hey, don't look at me like that - have  _you_ ever had the choice of throwing away your social status just to befriend one ditzy blonde? It's not that easy. You have to understand, though - that didn't mean it was the same. See, even though we still fired insults back and forth every chance we got, all the acidity had been taken out of our exchanges, so all that was left in it was the exercise. It helped sharpen our minds, y'know? Somehow, I think our rivalry had been making us better students all along; it kept us on our toes. Anyway, it was just too late in our high school experience to shake up the caste system - or at least, too late in this school year. Three more weeks to Prom!

See? I told you my life didn't tie itself up in a neat little bow... but that's still not the end of this story. And some of the stuff coming up could turn your hair white - I mean, I look back now and I still can't believe all that happened to me.

And some of it... well, some of it's just plain embarassing.

_END Chapter Eleven_


	12. Internal Polifreaks

" _Psst!_ "

What was that, a gas leak? I was supposed to be getting to class, but I stopped to look around to see where it was coming from, anyway. Then I heard it again: " _Psst!_ "

"Who's there?"

I saw a hand waving me over to the bathroom; I followed it inside to find... oh, who else?

"What do you want, freak?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're alone, Libby."

"Should I care?" I said coldly as I stared her down; she glared right back. Then, when we were both about to crack up, I threw my arms around her, laughing, "'cause I do!"

"Me too, Libby," she giggled, pulling back. "I just had a question is all."

"Fire away, freak," I said, checking my makeup in the mirror.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Before I get to her question, I want to explain the lack of total weirdness of this Monday morning; you know, the fact that I'm still insulting her, but other than that we've dropped all pretense? See, it was no longer the least bit uncomfortable because this isn't the first time we've had a private conversation since I got kicked out of my house; no, now it was almost two weeks later, and in between we'd, y'know, hung around sometimes. We might have professionally (meaning 'in school') continued the same relationship we'd always had, but... well, a few days after the last time I soaked her shoulder I ran into her at the mall, and we were both headed for the food court, and- I dunno, we just ended up spending all day together, it was a blast and a half, and the rest was history.

By the way, it turns out she's not toothless; it was a really well-executed prank. I don't think I'll ever get just why she thought playing a prank on  _herself_ would be funny, but I did personally pull on her teeth just to be sure they were real.

...Then I washed my hands a dozen times, of course.

The worst part was, I actually kept thinking about how much I'd missed out on. I mean, the nerd could be really annoying and self-righteous sometimes, but she had that certain "substance"... something that Jill and Cee Cee were experiencing a perpetual shortage of. If only I'd known what I know now, the time we were stuck on the same team with Birkhead and Kinkle for that Brainbusters competition would've been a  _lot_ more fun; I keep thinking about that because studying for it was one of the few bizzare times we actually spent any real time together outside of school before all this started... even though her living room was flooded. And filled with poppies. And her aunts were dancing in the closet. And she tried to tickle me.

Now, now, don't get mad at me for leaving all that out, but I did it to move the story along; trust me, other than some conversations about guys and good clean fun (think skee ball and movies and junk like that), nothing of significance happened in there, so you're not missing much. Really, if I had put all of it in, we'd only have dozens of pages of fluff, and you'd get bored, anyway. So, back to the issue at hand!

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

"Well, the Prom is coming up this weekend," she began, fidgeting with her fingers, "and I was wondering... what's going on? I mean, I just found out you guys on the committee have been planning for this in secret for like, almost a month, and the rest of us students don't know anything."

"That much has always been true." When I glanced over from my eyelashes, her arms were folded in expectation of a real answer. "Oh, don't worry; this Prom will be spectacular in every way."

"But, well, I was just wondering if maybe I could... come to a meeting?"

"Absolutely not!" I blurted, whirling on her. "Geez, what would the other cheerleaders think?"

"Oh, just tell them I twisted Mr. Kraft's arm and he twisted yours," she pleaded. "We need some equality on this."

"C'mon, Sabrina," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I mean, it's too late now for it to make any difference, anyway; we've already planned everything out, and most of the details have been decided on and-or booked. You'd be purely cosmetic."

Her fervent nod smelled like vindication. "I knew it; you guys have this planned out to be nothing but a festival for the popular, while all the rest of us suffer with mediocre accomodations."

"Exactly," I affirmed matter-of-factly. "See, we like to call that kinda thing 'A Prom'." Yes, complete with finger-quotes.

"Well, I think it stinks!" I almost laughed, because she actually stamped her foot. "We should have as much fun at this shindig as you guys!"

"But like I said, there's really no point in-"

"Come on, Libby! I at least wanna know what it'll be like so I can be ready for whatever horrible surprises await us unsuspecting pariahs!"

I bit my lip.

"Libby...?"

I sighed.

"Libby!"

"Oh,  _alright,_  alright, Susan B. Anthofreak," I moaned, drooping so as to look as put-upon as possible. "I'll make an announcement at lunch that there will be a public meeting of the committee after school today, but don't try to twist my arm again; my oh-so-popular hands are tied, got it?"

She grinned, hugging me again. "Thanks, Lib- you're the best enemy a girl could ask for!"

"Feeling's mutual, you whiny activist dork." And out she flounced. Did she realise how awkward a position she put me in? None of the other cheerleaders are going to want a nerd like her there, mucking up our well-oiled machine.

"Oh, what am I gonna do with her?" I asked my reflection.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

As you may have guessed, that meeting didn't quite go the way she planned, so she did what she had to do; whipped the students into a frenzy and got herself and Dorkhead on our committee. I tried to do damage control to save face, so I made sure their only duties were picking out napkins... but Sabrina at least got what she wanted, which was the inside scoop on the Prom.

See, we were going with this Camelot theme; elegant evening gowns, dragons and knights in shining armour, and a giant "round table" dance floor. The school music department's Renaissance ensemble were set to play us up some chamber music stuff for the important proceedings, and then Mayday Heyday - this local rock band with a really cute lead singer - would take over for the rest of the night.

But the freak had a problem with some things... like the special catering for the cheerleaders and their dates, and the peasant hut backdrop for the other students' Prom portraits. Gimme a break, here; shouldn't we be rewarded for all the hard work we put into the dance? But no, everything has to be "equal" or whatever.

And it didn't take her long after our second meeting - during which she confronted us about all that - for her to corner me. I was just walking down the hall, minding my own queen beeswax, when she pulled me through an emergency exit.

"Wha-?!" And I was behind the school. "Sabrina! What are you doing?!"

"Libby, we have to talk about this." Her nostrils were flaring a little.

"Why didn't that door set off the alarm?"

"Huh?" She blinked, then focused on my question and rolled her eyes. "Oh. Yeah, this door's alarm never worked; I found that out on accident last year."

"Hmm..."

"But nevermind that, okay?"

"Fine," I sighed. "Talk about what, freakmonger?"

"About the fact that this prom is going to suck for the rest of us!" she exclaimed. "Our punch is going to be Hawaiian, isn't it?"

Wow, that was dead on. "Well..."

"And if we're lucky, hot dogs and Oreos for food. And we don't even get to dance on the dance floor? What the heck is that?!"

"Sabrina, get a grip!" I replied gruffly, folding my arms and leaning against the brick wall. "I told you, my hands are tied; everyone, from the cheerleaders to the geeks, already know Prom is gonna be like that, so what's your damage?"

She looked at me, exasperated and a little put out. "Libby, why do you care so much about what they think?"

What was she talking about? "Why shouldn't I? I'm popular, and that's how you stay that way; give the people what they want... or at the very least, what they expect."

"But I know you're better than that!"

"No I'm not," I said quickly. Y'know, it only strikes me as funny  _now_ that I was trying to disregard a compliment.

"Oh, really?" Sabrina couldn't help but let out a laugh, despite her frustration. "Listen: you might think it's a deep, dark secret, but having a soul is actually a  _good_ thing! I mean it! So I can't understand why you still want everyone to see you as some stuck-up, prissy drama queen!"

"Because it's all I've got!"

"No, it's not!" she growled. "After the past couple weeks, I know that better than anyone; I've seen inside you and the  _real_ Libby's trapped in that pseudo-evil husk, waiting to jump out and yell, 'Surprise, I'm not a bitch!' I can see that, why can't you?"

" _LOOK!_ " For some reason I was shouting already - in hindsight I have to say, "defensive much?", but at the time I thought what I was saying made sense. "You don't- I just- this  _is_ me! I am what you see, and I need this, okay?! So we're gonna have a dazzling, over-the-top Prom, and the popular kids will get to dance in the middle and the freaks are going to dance with freaks in the freak section, and the status quo will be satisfied, and we'll all go about our merry little lives regardless of what we really want! Is that clear?!"

_Oops._

She just stared at me, and I knew why. "Libby-"

But I couldn't stand to hear it - whatever it was. Maybe she wasn't going to spot it right away, maybe I misread the dawning of understanding in her facial expression - but I knew she'd get to it sooner or later, so I slammed my way back through the emergency door and on to class. I just knew this friendship would bring nothing but disaster...

_END Chapter Twelve_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the chapters following contain plot elements (no actual dialogue) from the Sabrina novel "Prom Time" by Bobbi JG Weiss and David Cody Weiss. I was going to bring my story through Prom anyway, and unfortunately book #21 is the only reference material available, since they never had a Prom in the show (BLASPHEMY!)


	13. Trip The Light Freaktastic

Well, I made a point of avoiding Sabrina for the next three days. In fact, if I could make it through the whole week without seeing her stupid face, it would be an act of mercy from Jesus or something, because at that juncture it was all I wanted; to have a freak-free experience for my Junior Prom. Okay, so maybe it was more than slightly drastic, but I just knew she was going to try to catch me and force me to hear that awful question... to throw my words back in my face and make me deal with them, which I just didn't have time for. It would have to wait, so I avoided all contact.

And I succeeded; though I saw her in the halls a few times, and she would always try to catch up with me - there was this pained expression on her face, too - I would figure out a way to slip out of reach. Once she even stopped by my house, but I had Mother send her away; I just said we weren't speaking right now.

She finally blocked me off in the halls Friday afternoon, the night before the dance... not that I let her say much.

"Dammit, Libby, will you talk to me, please?"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Spellman!" A clever move I learned from watching the quarterback got me under one of her outstretched arms. "Have a good Prom!"

It was only when I got to my car that it hit me - in my haste to get away, I'd actually wished her a good Prom? This was definitely the weirdest relationship I'd ever had with anybody, including the iffy alliance with Mr. Kraft.

Now, a lot of strange things happened those last few days before the dance; things that I can barely remember and are way too freaky to explain, so I won't try very hard.

Let's see... the students organised a protest against the Student Council, and they even tried to elect some geek Principal. Harvey got on the wrestling team and dislocated his shoulder without even wrestling, and we cheerleaders ended up cheering for - ugh - the chess team. We even promoted Valerie to first-string - a mistake I corrected after Prom, believe me. In fact, most of these wrongs righted themselves after Prom, and I can only guess they happened in the first place because everyone was a little keyed up about the whole affair. Just wanted to make sure I covered all that before we got to the night.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Saturday morning. It was only a few hours away, now. I was convinced everything was going to go right; I was still worrying like every hair stylist in the world had just dropped dead, but as far as I knew all my bases were covered and things were on track, so I tried not to think too much and just concentrate on getting ready.

But she just  _had_ to call. She couldn't just leave me alone for once.

"What do you want?!" I snapped after my mom had handed me the receiver and left my room.

"You have to talk to me about this someday."

"No, I don't! Come on, if you want to talk about anything else, that's fine, but not that... not tonight. I've got too much to stress over without-"

"Without what?"

"Goodbye, Sabrina... see you in Camelot."

"Libby, wait!"

I hung up. I hung up, and felt guilty... but this had to go off as planned. It  _had_ to!

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Everything was perfect. My date, Desmond Jacobi, looked way hot in his tuxedo, and my gown was one that just wouldn't quit; it befit my soon-to-be-Queen status. The food smelled divine, the orchestra was doing... well, as well as our orchestra can, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Except me. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I kept thinking about Sabrina. She just wouldn't leave this alone, even though I knew she was just being annoying... but it was getting harder and harder to dismiss it like that. That didn't mean I wasn't going to try like hell, though; this was my Prom!

So I busied myself playing hostess; I checked to see that everything was going well, and that the musicians (both rock and classical) had their stuff together, and that the photographer was ready to go, and wondered why Sabrina's aunts were arguing with a strange woman dressed even better than me (marginally), and blah blah blah. I bet everyboy wondered why I was being that nice, but really I just had nothing better to do, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Eventually, after I had something to eat, a few dances with Des, and our pictures taken, I kind of settled down and started to enjoy the evening. We did it - me and the girls pulled off this fantastic night! And in the spirit of the whole thing, we decided to share our delicious food and castle court photo backdrop with the peasants- I mean, geeks.

I was just starting to forget about her when she arrived.

Harvey looked good, I guess... for a disco king. Evidently, the story is that his dad had his old Prom tux from the Seventies cryogenically frozen so he could pass it on to his son... and boy, was it dated. Robin's Egg blue, with extra-pointy collar and a smiley-face patch over the breast pocket. Ew! But it did seem to work for Kinkle; he always had that kinda off-beat vibe going for him.

But Sabrina's ensemble was... well, unexpectedly trendy, in a "it's so crazy it just might work" kinda way. A very retro dress from the same era, the exact shade of Harvey's tux, but she had these amazing glittery sandals that seemed to actually give off light, and in a moment of weirdness (I'd be calling this "the most brilliant thing ever" if I'd thought of it), she incorporated a bow tie into her ornate hair. To be totally honest, she probably was the third-best looking there (next to me, naturally, and that chaperon I didn't recognise).

At some point, she even waved at me; I waved back quickly before anyone could notice and went back to dancing with Des... before Sabrina's aunt cut in. What was she doing?!

From there, the dance started getting a little weird, which had come to be business as usual at Westbridge. I don't remember a lot of what happened, but it seemed like Birkhead, me and that geeklet Trudy actually got in a fight over  _not_ wanting to be homecoming queen... maybe it was the fish I ate. Don't look at me like that - I brought Mentos for after, I'm not totally dense!

Anyway, eventually all the excitement subsided, I ended up with the crown (damn straight), and Mayday Heyday gave us all this amazing last dance that felt as if we were dancing on clouds. So maybe it wasn't exactly what I envisioned, but it was one magical night, that's for sure.

Why couldn't it just end there?

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

I was going back to my table, thinking about maybe having dessert (though I was risking popping a seam on that straightjacket of a dress), when she caught me from behind, pulled me off the dance floor and into the shadow of the Lancelot statue.

"You  _will_ talk to me!" she demanded.

"Sabrina," I whimpered, "the night is almost over. I'm exhausted. Can't we do this like, tomorrow or something?"

"We could, but I don't think something like this should wait."

"God, you are so annoying. Will you just... die?"

"No thanks, I'm trying to cut back." She stamped her glittering foot. "Why don't you take me seriously?"

"You have a bow on your head - would you take Minnie Mouse seriously if she wanted to have a heart to heart?"

"She never asked. Now, about the other day-"

"Wow, Harvey looks a little lonely," I said desperately - if a future me had told myself I'd actually be  _pushing_ her into Harvey's arms, I'd have scoffed my own head off and told me to take a Zoloft. "Why don't you two go ride off into the sunset?"

"Libby! You have to tell me!"

"No, I don't!" My blood was really starting to boil, now. "Dammit, Sabrina, just shut your cake hole, I said I don't wanna talk about this!"

Her arms started waving around fanatically, like they always do when she gets excited. "You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?"

"You'd better not, I mean it!"

"You said 'regardless of what we really want'! So what  _do_ you want?"

She just couldn't leave it alone. It was out there for everybody to hear - and trust me, by now they were hearing  _everything._  Other than us, the gym was perfectly still, and I could see a hundred pairs of eyes watching us intently, wondering what was going on.

"Shut up."

"You want more, don't you? More meat in the sandwich of your life, maybe?"

I looked around wildly. "Shut  _up!_ "

"I knew it! You don't really want to be a cheerleade-"

_SLAP!_

_END Chapter Thirteen_


	14. To Kill A Freakingbird

Shoot, now I've done it - I hit her. I can't believe I just  _hit_ her! Okay, so maybe I hate her stupid guts, and her stupid face, and everything about her freakly personage - or maybe I don't, but... I just crossed over the threshold from passive-agressive banter to physical violence, and... how do I feel? Sorry. The remorse surprises me because blah blah blah.

You don't need me to go over that part again, right? One serving of that panicky soliloquy is enough.

The worst part is, nobody made a single sound, so the slap echoed for what seemed like forever. We were both frozen in time, it was so unreal... and I had that forever to think about what I'd just done. Why did I do it? Well, I know why - to stop her from saying any more than the too much she'd already said. But the implications, they were too painful, too tender to touch - my mind reeled just trying to revisit them. Still...

Things came back to life in slow motion. Murmurs started really low, then built as people began moving. Mayday Heyday seemed to think that things were a little too tense, so even though they were supposed to pack up, they started another song. I saw Harvey adjust his tie uncomfortably, and Birkhead's hand was still over her mouth.

"I'm sorry."

For a second, I thought I'd said it... but no, I didn't.

When she straightened up, I could see her cheek was beet-red. Her fingers lightly brushed it, and then wiped a tear (of pain, I hoped) from her eye. "Maybe I was wrong."

It crushed my heart to see her like that; all the light had gone out of her eyes, all the sparkle from her smile. "S-Sabrina-"

"I guess you're exactly where you want and need to be. I'm... I'm sorry I've been so pushy lately."

"Sabrina!"

But it was her turn to ignore me as she walked away. Harvey put his arm around her shoulders and escorted her from the gym, shooting me a look of confusion... or maybe revulsion. I deserved the second one.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Some stuff happened after that... whatever. Jill and Cee Cee tried to talk to me, but all I could do was mumble incoherently and eventually tell them to leave me alone. I ended up asking Desmond to take me home, which he was nice enough to do.

Sunday happened, too... I guess. There was waaaay too much to think about, so all I remember is my mother knocking on my door a few times to ask how I was... and crying. Lots of crying. Crying for thousands of reasons, the most important of which were the fact that I'd caused that poor little freak pain... who between the two of us was looking less and less like the freak every day.

Finally, Monday morning came, and I hoped I'd be able to lose myself in the swamp of school-ness... but it didn't work. My first class had Sabrina in it.

She wouldn't look at me. I mean, she wouldn't even  _look_ at me! I'd killed it; whatever strange, unholy bond we had formed, I'd broken it when I tried to break her face. I spent the whole hour glancing at her, hoping I could catch her eye and somehow tell her I was sorry, but...

I tried to talk to her at lunch, but she put her tray up as soon as she saw me and left the cafeteria. Harvey and Valerie shot me funny looks, then turned purposefully away from me. I didn't know what else to do, so...

"Do you guys have a minute?"

Valerie looked up. I could see the conflict in her face - she had always been desperate to join my clique, but her loyalties weren't there. "Nnno, I'm sorry," she said finally.

"We're kinda having a conversation," Harvey added flatly.

"Oh, cut the crap," I hissed, sitting down. "Could you..."

Now, I really hadn't thought this through; it was weird enough talking candidly with Sabrina, but that wasn't an "I can talk to all freaks like they're people" card. I still felt those impulses - the automatic knee-jerk reaction to be the teen queen, the one that I'd been working on all my life. But I had to supress it if I wanted to get anywhere with this.

"What's that?" Valerie said.

"Could you guys tell her... I'm sorry?"

They both blinked. "You're...  _what?!_ " Harvey said, honestly surprised.

"I'm sorry." It surprised me more than them that I had to fight back tears. "That... I guess that's all."

And I fled before it got any weirder.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

There was no way of knowing if she got the message or not, because a week and a half passed and we never spoke once. Well, I shouldn't say that - I tried to speak to her, but she wasn't listening. Every time, I would tell myself it wasn't worth this, that there was no reason to stress over her so much... and yet, I tried again. And again and again and again.

The halls felt sorta empty the last few days of the term, because all the seniors had graduated and skipped out, so it was just us underclassmen. Everything felt like that. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. Nobody could talk to me, or even mattered. I just kinda stumbled down the halls in a daze. As much as those weeks hanging around with Sabrina had changed me, I almost think the post-Prom solitude changed me more... or maybe just more profoundly.

Right, so you're probably thinking by now that I went overboard on all this - that I shouldn't have been so broken up over a lost friendship. And you know what? I agree with you; looking at it from outside, it seems really childish and lame. What's one freak in the grand scheme of things?

But as I looked back on the few weeks we'd spent in the demilitarised zone, as I replayed those days over and over in my mind, there was no fighting it: she was my only real friend. Nobody had ever truly cared about me on a level that deep before... or been worth caring about. And though she wasn't as trend-conscious as my other friends, I couldn't keep lying about it to myself - she actually had a pretty good eye for fashion, even if it was a bit off the beaten path. Nevermind that none of my other friends know every word of "The Funky Song".

Finally, I came to an inevitable conclusion; I had to make this right. As much as I'd never understand it, Sabrina Spellman meant too much to me to just let her fade away from my life, and therefore I had to make her hear me out.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

_RI-I-I-I-I-ING!  
_

School was out for the summer. Everyboy was cheering, notebooks were being thrown around, skateboards were being ridden down the halls - Mr. Kraft powerless to stop any of them. He could be seen drinking milk of magnesia at frequent intervals.

I made it out rather quickly and stood watch by the front door, waiting for my golden opportunity. This was going to work, I  _knew_ it! My palms itched, and I would have been sweating... if I did that. Which I don't! Finally, the opportunity came, and I tensed, ready to strike.

"When we get to The Slicery," Harvey was saying, "I'm gonna get the biggest pizza ever invented!"

"Yeah, well I just want to go home and sleep for three days solid," Valerie laughed. "'Cause I got nowhere to be!"

Just as Sabrina was about to reply to that, she stopped short when she saw what was dangling in front of her face.

"Keys?" she asked.

"Yes," I said timidly. "To my car. They're yours, if you want."

A strained smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Harv, Val... gimme a second? I'll catch up soon."

"Okay," Birkhead said hesitantly. "If you're sure..."

"Yell if you need me to take her down," Harvey offered, maybe trying to lighten the mood.

"Thanks, guys."

We walked away from the doors and toward the bike racks; all the bike kids had already grabbed them and pedaled off as fast as their little legs could go.

Seconds crept by. There was no easy way to go about the whole thing, so I decided to just jump in.

"Sabrina-"

"I don't want your car, Libby."

"Yeah, I figured that." I slipped the keys into my purse. "Seriously, I know you can't be bought... but I thought it might at least get your attention."

A little chuckle. "Well, yeah, I guess it did at that." She squinted at me; the sun was behind my back. "And now that you got it, what do you want?"

"To apologise."

"Okay, I forgive you. Later!"

I dropped my arms in frustration. "C'mon, Sabrina, gimme a break! I'm trying, here!"

"What? You're sorry, and it's okay now. We can go back to how things were before. Isn't that what you want?"

I took a deep breath; here we go.

"No... no, it's not."

_END Chapter Fourteen_


	15. Time Waits For No Freak

Sabrina squinted at me again as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear - this time, she was sizing me up, trying to figure out if I was for real or not. "Then tell me... what do you  _really_ want?"

"I want... I want you not to hate me."

"Why? You hate me."

"No I don't. I told you I don't."

This time, when she spoke, I could hear a little of the frost thawing. "Then why can't you just not hate me? Why do you have to keep playing games?"

"Because it's all I know!" I sniffled a little - pathetic, maybe, but this was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. Think about it: all those conditioned responses I'd been carefully building since childhood were fighting against my actions. I had to make her see that. "S-Sabrina, I'm trying to learn how to be straight with you, but it- it's still just second-nature, okay? Maybe that makes me a bad person, but my instinct is to... to..."

"Shut everyone out?"

"Yeah." One more deep breath, then said what I really wanted to say here. "And... you were right. Well, sort of."

An eyebrow went up. "Sort of right?"

"At the- well, that night, you were going to say I didn't want to be a cheerleader, but that's not completely true." At that point I realised I was rubbing my arm nervously, something I hadn't done since kindergarten; to make myself stop, I started gesturing emphatically the way she always does. "I like cheering okay, but... no, I don't want to be the ice queen anymore. It's..."

She waited a minute, then prodded me. "It's what?"

"...lonely."

And then she smiled. It was still kind of a sad smile, but it was real. "I know. Well, not from personal experience, but... I see it in you all the time. I always kinda got that 'nobody can touch me here, but that also kinda sucks' vibe from you, y'know?"

"Really?"

"Yep." She glanced over at Harvey and Val in the distance, hovering near Harvey's beat-up mess of a car. "Look, I better catch up to them before they leave me behind. I'm glad you're coming around, though."

"Wait, Sabrina..."

"Hmm?"

It was too weird. We ended this on such a good note that I didn't think I wanted to say anything else, but I had to. The iron was hot - I couldn't just let this drop, I'd dove in too deep. In for a penny, in for... for- oh, shoot, there's more to that old saying but I can't remember it. Anyway, I figured if I didn't finish saying what I wanted to say now, I'd probably never work up the balls to broach the subject again.

"I... I was wondering if..."

Harvey's horn honked. "Can it wait? We'll have plenty of time to talk later, you could call me."

"No, I- I have to do this now. It would just be... I dunno, it would suck to put it off any longer."

I could see she was genuinely curious now. "Hey, what is it? Ask me anything."

Deep breath; I was rubbing my arm again. "I was wondering if we could... be friends."

"We are friends, Libby."

"No, I mean it - not just a 'let's agree not to totally despise each other' thing, but... I really mean it."

And there was the smile; the one that made the sun shining on her face look dull by comparison... the smile I thought I'd never see again. "We are friends, Libby," she repeated, hugging me. "We have been for a while... you just didn't know it."

"I am so sorry!" I sobbed into her shoulder (yet again). "The dance, I just, I was so scared of what you were gonna say, and I didn't mean to- I would never do that, and-"

"I know," she whispered. "And I'm sorry I avoided you for so long; I was pissed, and I've been acting like a big baby." She pulled back and clapped a hand to my shoulder. "So, buddy... wanna hit The Slicery with us?"

"Well, I dunno..." I glanced over at Harvey's car. "You think they'll mind?"

"They better not!" She started walking off. "Real friends don't hate their friends' other friends, don't you know that?"

I laughed and followed.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

 _This is the last chance._  I mean it, now - you can still save yourself from reading the rest and happily skip off down the yellow brick road, content in getting an even better ending than the first one. You gambled and won - should you really be pressing your luck again this soon?

Heed these words, dear reader, becauase there's a totally horrible twist ahead you might not be willing to accept, and I'd hate to think you got there without being warned.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Well, the four of us did have a good time that day. It took some getting used to, but when I let all the pretense and social standards and all that unimportant crap go, I learned a few things.

Sabrina Spellman's still a freak of nature, because nobody is that nice. But she's really smart, and funny - her zingers always kill me - and she can kick my ass at foosball. She's also loyal to a fault, and would fight for any one of her friends to the death. By the time we got to The Slicery (I rode with them; I'd never been in Harvey's car before, and it was... well, it was special, alright), I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that our friendship had never been in real danger... she was just waiting for me to grasp that, too.

Harvey Kinkle... is not the man for me. He's fun to hang around with and all, but I can't really picture myself with him anymore, which I'm fine with. I also realised that, even though he's not the brightest crayon, he's a pretty colourful one; he's got this unique perspective on the world that's sort of endearing.

That Valerie Birkhead is a sweet girl, too. Also not very sharp, and a little mopey, but if you get her to venture outside her web of insecurities, she's almost as nice as Sabrina... and it's kind of satisfying to see a generally-depressed girl really happy. She is  _sooo_ going to be first-string next year!

I wish I could say we had the best and most fantastic summer break ever, constantly shopping and having pool parties and everything, but that's not exactly what happened. Actually, it didn't happen at all.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

The day after the end of term, my mother and Reed called me downstairs for dinner... but when I got to the bottom of the steps, I found them seated together on the couch. This was beginning to look horribly familiar, so I opened with, "Oh God,  _what?_ "

"Honey, we have to-"

"If you say, 'we have to talk', I swear I'll scream, because that never leads anywhere good!"

My mom sighed. "We're sorry about evicting you, okay? But the fact is, your attitude has needed an adjustment for a while now, and we've been trying to think of something to do about it."

"So I'll get a therapist."

They exchanged a glance. "Well," Reed said, "that's not quite what we were thinking."

I sat down in the recliner, waiting for the axe to drop.

"We've noticed you've been... crying a lot lately," Mom continued. "You don't seem to be getting along in school very well anymore, and you-"

"But Mom-"

"Let me finish. And Tracy's mother told me about the incident at the dance; really, now, striking another student? That was certainly uncalled for."

"I know, Mom, but-"

"We don't think that environment is very healthy for a young girl like yourself," Reed said. "Maybe you need a change of scene... or maybe you just need to be somewhere with a little more structure, that will enforce more rigid boundaries."

"Like Mr. Kraft isn't rigid?!"

"And we obviously aren't doing a very good job raising you anymore..." Mom paused to dab at her eyes before continuing. "It was easier when you were younger, but maybe I wasn't ready for these teenage years."

I couldn't help but sigh. "Oh, Mom, that's not-"

"Honey," Mother said, steeling herself. "We've decided to send you to another school."

The steak through the heart. "W... what?" But Westbridge was my home; both the school  _and_ the town! Why did they think uprooting me was going to help anything?!

"There's a very nice private academy in New Hampshire, which isn't that far from here," Reed said, trying to make this nightmare sound tolerable. "Not even a two-hour drive."

"Private school?!" Anything but tacky uniforms!

"And they have beautiful dorms," my mother went on, smiling, "overlooking this lake..."

"Wait, wait..." I was starting to put this together. "Private academy, dorms, two hours away..."

_Holy crap._

"Doesn't it sound like a nice change?" Reed asked me, hoping for... well, something other than:

"You're really gonna do it," I croaked. "You're shipping me off to boarding school."

_END Chapter Fifteen_


	16. Seperation Freaxiety

The rest of the conversation would be equally unimportant, even if I could remember details... in a nutshell, they kept trying to tell me about the school's good points, and I sat there in a stupor. I couldn't bring myself to fight them on this, because... really, if they can actually throw me out on the street, even if it was just one night, I didn't have a prayer of changing their minds about this. Eventually, my mother tried to help me up to my room to think about it for a while, but I pulled out of her grip and ran upstairs by myself. Needless to say, I didn't have any dinner.

Swords Private Academy. For the love of Mike, the place is called  _Swords_ \- somehow I don't see them as being very lenient, do you?! I bet this was Reed's idea; he's probably heard my mother yell, "You better straighten up or it's off to boarding school with you" one too many times, and he up and said "Why don't we just do that?" What a buttwad.

You know, oddly enough I didn't cry all over the place this time; I was too outraged, or in denial, or something along those lines. It just didn't seem real; I've never even  _seen_ a boarding school before, except maybe in movies. What were they  _thinking?!_

It wasn't until the next morning that a certain aspect of all this finally hit home: I was going to lose all my friends. And while before that would have been Jill and Cee Cee and the girls, now it meant...

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

"Sabrina?"

I peered through the window next to her front door, hoping she might be in there somewhere. I knocked again. "Hello, anybody home?"

It wasn't until about the fifth time I pushed the doorbell button that I heard, "I'm comin', hold yer horses"... except it wasn't Sabrina. Or even a girl, for that matter, which was further reinforced when the door swung open. "What's- oh, Libby!"

"Harvey?!" I yelped with a start. "What-?"

"Hey, how's it going?" Grinning, he stepped back out of the way, gesturing toward the living room with a bowl of pork rinds. "Come on in - me and Salem are just about to watch some rugby on ESPN 12. The Spellmans have this amazing satellite package!"

"Uh, okay..." Not that I knew what the hell "rugby" was, or why the crummy cat would care about it. "So, where's Sabrina?"

He frowned. "Oh, you didn't hear? She's in Hawaii."

" _WHAT?!_ " He cringed from my outburst. "But I just saw her two days ago! When did all this happen?!"

"They left yesterday afternoon. She... really didn't tell you?"

"No..." I couldn't help but feel a little hurt as I walked in and sat down on the arm of their couch. "Why would she leave like that without saying goodbye?"

"It was kind of a surprise from her aunts," he said, plopping down next to his two-litre bottle of root beer. "The only reason she told me is 'cause they needed a cat-sitter fast."

I knew I wasn't going to like it, but I had to ask. "How... how long are they gonna be gone?"

"I dunno, a month or something... maybe not that long. It's some huge family reunion; man, they really go all-out, huh?"

"Month," I croaked.

He finally seemed to get that I was distraught over this. "Hey, don't worry, the summer'll be over before you know it... and she'll probably be back before then, anyway."

"It won't matter."

"Why?"

I looked at him and shrugged helplessly. "I'm moving."

His eyebrows shot up. "What?! But I thought your mom loved Massachusetts!"

"Oh, she's not going anywhere," I laughed bitterly, folding my arms. "They're sending me to some stupid boarding school."

"Really? Where?"

"New Hampshire."

"Man..." He kinda stared off into space for a while; I guess this news just has that effect on people.

"Tell me about it."

"Well... when are you leaving?"

I almost started crying right then. "My mother said... next week. She wants me to get acclimated to the new environment before the school year actually starts."

"Sounds to me like they just wanna get rid of you." He jerked upright when he realised how that sounded. "Uh, sorry, I mean, well-"

"No, it's okay," I said quickly. "I think you're right... my mom just doesn't connect with me very well, she never really did." I stood up to go.

"Hey, you sure you don't wanna stay and hang around for a while?"

"That sounds nice, but... I think I need to be alone."

He nodded, following me to the door. "Okay, well... hey, don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?"

I kinda tried to smile, but it didn't really happen. "I won't. See you, Harvey."

"Later."

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

My friends (who were still there) threw a going-away party for me a few days after that; it was a little uncomfortable, as my cheerleader friends didn't take too well to Valerie being there, but the ice was kind of broken by the end of the whole thing (I was able to make them see they'd need her after I left... see, I  _told_ you she was headed for first-string!). It was nice, but I spent most of it drifting back and forth to the punch bowl absentmindedly and trying not to burst into tears again.

The day came when I was supposed to leave; all my bags were packed (with the few things I was allowed to take; no CD player? No cell? No makeup?!) and in my mother's Jag. She said they'd keep my car on ice until I graduated, and I hoped against hope they weren't placating me. It occured to me that I had one last chance to talk to Sabrina, and I had to take it. So I had my mom drive me to her house.

Harvey let me in; they still weren't back, obviously, but by now I was desperate to at least let her know what was happening in person (or similar). After a few minutes he found the number for the hotel they were staying in down there, and I called it, hoping against hope that she'd be there.

"Hellooo?"

"Sabrina!" For one shining instant, my heart leapt into my throat...

"Oh, no sweetie, this is her Aunt Hilda. Who's this?"

...before it fell out of my chest and exploded all over the linoleum. "Oh, hello... this is Libby, from school."

"Oh," she said sourly; I guess the few times we'd met I'd been kind of a pill, so I can't blame her. "So, what's new in Westbridge?"

"Well, I- I was just calling to say goodbye to Sabrina. I wanted to tell her in person, but then Harvey told me where you were, and-"

"Goodbye? Are you moving or something?"

"Yes... to a private school."

"Oh no," she said, trying to feign disappointment. "That's a shame, I'm sorry. Well, Sabrina's down at the beach, but you could try again later."

"Thanks, but I'm actually leaving right now... something about getting acquainted with the place. Maybe I'll call her once I get there, though."

"Okay, well, I'll tell her you called. Good luck in prep school!"

"Bye, Ms. Spellman."

"Buh-bye!" Click. The end. The end of my chances to tell her myself that I wouldn't be seeing her for a at least a year.

"Sorry," Harvey said with a shrug as he poured himself a glass of Coke. "Couldn't help overhearing."

"It's okay," I lied. "I'll just... I'll call her when I get there. It's not a very long drive, and she oughtta be back in her room by then."

We said goodbye again at the door. "Send us postcards and stuff," he said, shaking my hand and pulling me into one of those weird one-armed manhugs.

"I'll try."

"Later."

And with that, I got into the car, stared out the window... and left Westbridge behind forever.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

_Epilogue_

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Remember when I said you wouldn't believe where I'm writing from? I told you, didn't I? Though "forever" might have been an exaggeration; I obviously don't know that for sure.

This place... I really can't stand it here. Well, the whole campus is gorgeous, and Sword Lake is amazing during sunset, but the thing is... I don't know anybody. You'd think with a meager student body of 150 you'd  _have_ to make friends, but it's not so easy; I feel like I have nothing in common with any of these people. Most of them are used to this life by now, except me and a couple other students; I see this kid with spiky hair acting bored all the time, too, but his "angsty, unapproachable air" is working a bit  _too_  well for him. God, what I wouldn't give for a soul I can relate to...

Oh, and I was right; they're unbelievably strict. I can't wear anything but my uniform during school hours, and after that they still enforce a pretty strict dress code - they even frown upon scrunchies that are "too colorful". The one bottle of nail polish I smuggled in got confiscated, along with my back issues of Cosmo (how is that "confrontational reading material"?), two packs of Big Red and my PDA ("We use pen and paper here, miss"). There's no dating here, either, and that's a shame since some of the guys are definitely worth getting to know - or would be, I guess. I can't talk out of turn, I can't ditch without severe backlash, and - worst of all - there's no cheer squad! Basically, my options are to limit myself to acadamia or join some stressful club like the Mathletes. I'm actually considering the choir just to have something to do.

Wait... that's not the worst part. The worst part is that I'm not allowed to write to anyone but my parents, and I'm certainly not going to do that. And I can't use the phone, either, which means...

Yeah. No calling Sabrina. I never got to say goodbye to her.

Oh, about a week after term started, I did get a letter from her (the militant faculty read it first, but at least we get to actually receive our mail!). Wanna know what it said? Okay:

> " _Dear Libby,_
> 
> Gosh, I am sooo  _SO_ sorry! If I'd known you were moving away, I would've asked my aunts to postpone the trip! Harvey told me you were upset when you found out I left; thing is, the aunts sprung the idea on me when I was still ignoring you, and when you told me you wanted to bury the hatchet on the last day of school it kinda blew the whole Hawaii thing from my mind, so yeah... I guess I forgot. I just wanted you to know that, and that I'm sorry I wasn't in the room when you called, too. Man, I sure was a crappy friend that week, huh?
> 
> So, how's life in boot camp? Do they make you wear those annoying little plaid skirts or what? I know, it's probably a sore spot right now, but I really wanna know how things are there. I mean it, if only I'd been there I would've tried to convince your parents that this was a dumb idea; you only had one year left at Westbridge, it's not fair to make you change everything for such a short-yet-long period! I'm sorry about that more than anything, I guess.
> 
> Hey, you're not the only friend I lost to U-Haul, did you know that? Valerie's whole family up and moved to - get this - Alaska! Even worse than that, Mr. Kraft got promoted to Principal - can you believe it? So yeah, I guess it's just me and Harvey these days... but Brad, his best friend from way-back-when just moved back to town, and for some reason he doesn't seem to like me. I think it's kinda shaping up to be a lonely year for all of us, huh? Here's hoping you find some friends up there!
> 
> Anyway, I've got a ton of homework and I can hear Salem breaking something in the hall, so I should probably wrap this up. Oh, and your mom said you're not allowed to call or write me back; is that true? If so, tell me about it (ha ha). I guess all I can do is hope you get this and that it helps to hear from the outside world; I'll try to send more letters when I can. And hey, maybe I'll see you at break or something!
> 
> Love ya lots!  
>  _Sa-'freak'-na_ "

It meant more to me than I know myself, probably... too bad I couldn't tell her.

She's right about this shaping up to be a lonely year, though. The only student I really talk to is my roomie, Giselle, and she's a very private person; essentially, most of her responses consist of nods or "no thank you"s. Sabrina might be good at thawing people out, but I sure suck at it.

I hate it. It's only been four months (including the two-and-a-half months of Summer break) and I thoroughly hate my life, now. No love lives in these halls, as far as I'm concerned. What a gaggle of pricks!

You want to know what keeps me going, though? What keeps me from considering suicide, or another vain attempt to escape (you don't wanna hear about that - or maybe you do, but I don't want to tell you)? The light at the end of my dark, terrifying tunnel?

Sabrina. When I get out of here and I don't know what I'm going to do, I know I will at least find my little freak and tell her how much she meant to me, if only for that short time. When I can't get through the day here in this hellhole, I just think about seeing her again and going to the mall, or catching a flick... maybe seeing Harvey, too. I guess it would be a little tougher for us to see Valerie again, but she could always come down and visit us, right? Yeah, we'll have an unofficial reunion!

But I guess it's mostly about Sabrina, because... I can't really be sure, I mean, I've never had one before, but...

I think she's my best friend.

_The End...? As If!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in Cheerless Saga, Book 2 - "Swords & Axes: A Cheerless Interlude"!

**Author's Note:**

> Note to AO3 Users: Whew, okay. This is one of my longer works - and yes, it's first in a series of six. Now you know! I am hesitantly proud of this one, as it was my first big femmeslash work that slowly dragged me out of my comfortable closet.


End file.
